Divorce, Drinking and Dating Read online

  Divorce, Drinking & Dating

  The No-Fail Process to find out who you really are

  Find your own freedom

  and have a few laughs along the way way

  Danielle Prahl

  Copyright © 2017 by Prahly LLC.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Publishing Services provided by Paper Raven Books

  To Vail: You are the greatest gift I have ever received. I hope you always have the courage to follow your passions with reckless abandon. May you always be surrounded with endless love and support, and have a heart full of joy.

  To Mom: Thank you for always believing in me. You are love.

  And last but not least — to the Woman inside of you who longs for freedom, too: I give you permission to have, do, and be ANYTHING that you want on this earth.

  FREE GIFT

  Thank you for buying Divorce, Drinking & Dating! I have a free gift that'll help you on your journey to find your own freedom. Just click below to get it now:

  10 Ways to Screw Up Your Life Even MORE

  So that your mom can worry more

  And your friends can say

  What the F*CK are you doing with your life?!?

  

  www.danielleprahl.com/bookbonus

  Chapter 1:

  What. The. F*ck.

  Chapter 2:

  The Story of Me

  Chapter 3:

  Our Love Story

  Chapter 4:

  My Own Little Fairytale

  Chapter 5:

  How to Help Someone Destroy

  Your Self-Worth

  Chapter 6:

  Nobody Envies Your Life. In Fact, Your Family and Friends Think Your Life Is Way More Messed Up than You Do

  Chapter 7:

  Everybody Else Knows What’s

  Best for You

  Chapter 8:

  You’re Moving Down in the World

  (and Fast)

  Chapter 9:

  You Aren’t Doing Misery Correctly

  Chapter 10:

  The Best Way to Get over Someone

  Is to Date Pretty Much Anyone Else

  Chapter 11:

  Just When You Think You Have Hit

  Rock Bottom, Grab a Shovel

  Chapter 12:

  The Minute You Are Uncoupling, Everyone Else Is Coupling

  Chapter 13:

  How to Date a Crackhead and

  Other Stories

  Chapter 14:

  The Grass Isn’t Always Greener,

  but It’s Still Freakin Grass

  Chapter 15:

  How to Convince Your Parents You Are Suicidal and Date Your Ex’s Friends

  Chapter 16:

  The $200,000 Baby

  Chapter 17:

  Birthday Boy

  Chapter 18:

  How to Burn Your Old Life Down

  Chapter 19:

  Two Years Later

  Chapter 20:

  Opening the Flood Gates at My Best Friend’s Fucked Up Wedding

  Chapter 21:

  A New Perspective

  Chapter 22:

  Making Money is GOOD

  Chapter 23:

  Women Are the Most Powerful Creatures on the Planet

  Chapter 24:

  Why Figuring Out Who You Are Is Bullsh*t

  Chapter 25:

  Time Does Not Heal All Wounds. You Gotta Do the Work

  Chapter 26:

  Happy Endings?

  (We’re Not at a Massage Parlor)

  Introduction

  For the woman inside of you who longs for freedom.

  You know those perfect people who never complain about their partner, always have their shit together, and do the right thing? Yeah, that’s not me. I’m more the type of person who tells my best friend that I want to murder my spouse when he keeps me up snoring, that I want to trip the old person walking too slowly in front of me, and that I want to yell at that lady’s unruly child who won’t stop screaming inside the supermarket. I also have a ton of compassion, a huge heart, and a giving spirit. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I can be a bit complicated. I bet you feel me on that one. Am I right?

  Life is complicated. Relationships change everything. No one prepares you for major events like marriage, divorce, dating, or having kids. Why does no one talk about these incredibly important parts of life? Well, I think it’s time we all started being honest about some of the crazy stories we’ve lived through. Tell you what, I’ll go first, and then I’ll invite you to get honest about your life, too.

  Because of some deep-rooted beliefs and how I valued myself, I entered into a relationship that ended up turning my life upside down. Through hard work, self-discovery, coaching, lots of books, and other steps I’ll talk about, I took an experience that could have devastated me and used it to launch myself into a life I couldn’t even have dreamed of. I want to share that with you so you can find the courage to create a better life for yourself (you know, the kind you really want).

  I can’t promise that this book will change your life. Or that even after reading it you will know everything and be on your way to miraculous riches, the best relationships ever, and life in a mansion in the Swiss Alps, or whatever. I can promise that this book is brutally honest, raw, the vast majority of it was written in the moment from my perspective and thoughts at that time. Yes, this is a true story, not embellished for Hollywood-like drama.

  In the span of a year and a half, I went from completely destroying my life—living at my mom’s house with no job and a bunch of debt, and having a conman ex-husband with a jail sentence—to accomplishing the following:

  Experiencing true joy and bliss again.

  Starting the journey of becoming a mom (and later providing a great life for my daughter).

  Earning six-figures from a business, working for myself from home.

  Buying myself a brand-new car.

  Living in my dream location a stone’s throw from the beach.

  Finding my purpose for right now, by helping women like you to design true success in their businesses and lives.

  And I did all of that without borrowing money, begging on the streets, or even starting a GoFundMe page.

  Incredible, right? WRONG. These are minuscule things in the grand scheme of life.

  I am capable of so much more and you are, too, my friend. You can truly be, do, and have anything in this world. You are not a mistake. Maybe you’ve lived through something similar to what I’m about to share with you in this book. Maybe you’ve experienced something even crazier. Either way, we are strong, we are resilient. There’s nothing we can’t live through and be better on the other side for it.

  In doing the work to learn about myself, who I am and what I want; I was able to crawl out of the shambles. But you shouldn’t have to. I would be so much further along without these mistakes, if I’d had the tools in my belt that I do now prior to this disaster happening. Everything happens for a reason, and I truly believe that this happened to me for a purpose: to share my story with you. All of it. The good, the bad, the embarrassing, and the ugly.

  I hope that you take something from this book, that my suffering, my crazy and wild stories, my heartbreaks and victories, will leave you with some wisdom or nuggets that you can use for yourself. Take what you can from all of it, and go create the life you truly want.

  Together, powerful women are going to change this world.

  Chapter 1:

  What. The. F*ck.

  Let me start by saying this is m
y story from my perspective. It’s not about my ex-husband, the other people involved, or anyone else. It is about me; a 20-something newlywed, who spent six years dating, one year married, to a man who disappeared overnight. Well, disappeared isn’t really the word I am looking for. How about incarcerated? Locked up. In the pokey. You get it. What follows are my thoughts written down at the time the events occurred. With the passage of time, I’ve had more insight into these events and I’ve recorded those thoughts, too.

  May 21, 2015

  My world crumbled overnight. Last night, in fact. We were married. I thought he was a good person. I figured it was like a bad blast from the past coming back to haunt him. So, I won’t lie and say I was completely blindsided. I mean, unless you call being blindsided thinking that he was at a business meeting and then finding out that he was literally being extradited from California to Texas. He spent a bunch of our savings without asking or telling me. He subsequently hired then fired more attorneys than Mariah Carey does assistants. Now I know what you’re thinking: what an idiot this chick is (me, not Mariah). But just hear me out. I didn’t know about any of this before.

  We had some excellent years together before this. But he wasn’t honest with me about the situation.

  He lied through his teeth and told me nonsense. He wore me down whenever I tried asking questions. If I thought something was fishy, he made me feel like the cray-cray one. Being Glenda the Dumb Witch, I stuck in there. I believed the things he told me. He told me this was all a big mistake. He did some business deals that apparently weren’t so above-board. Of course, that’s not according to him; obviously, he was a little angel. I’m not an attorney, but I’m also not an idiot. So, SEVEN years later when we were newly married and building a life together, the state of Texas turned around and leveled his entire life harder than Miley Cyrus’s wrecking ball. And my life, too.

  So, here’s what happened. Yesterday, my husband flew to Texas. According to him, he was going to a “business meeting.” Something didn’t feel right, but we were having problems in our marriage and I was so emotionally exhausted that I really didn’t even care. It was a relief to have him gone. I went for the night to stay with one of my BFFs in LA, because I had an appointment the next day in the area. I got a text from him this morning: “I was sentenced to prison. I’m sorry. I love you. Call my mom.”

  I almost threw up in my mouth. Maybe it was a joke? It’s not April Fool’s Day, but something inside me sunk. I knew it was true. It’s like when you’re in a car crash, and you can see it happening in slow motion. I had just left my friend’s house and was driving to my appointment like it was a normal Thursday morning. I read the text, had a meltdown, looked out the window to see some bitches sipping their Coffee Bean like nothing bad was happening in the world. Assholes.

  I called his mom, and she said, “Yeah, well, maybe we can appeal and we will see.”

  Me: “So what exactly happened?”

  Her: “Well, you know, he was really upset, and they thought he may need suicide watch, and I don’t know, I tried to tell him maybe he will only serve a few years.”

  Me: “Okay, wait. What is going on???”

  Her: “Well, the prosecution requested he get 20 years ‘cause he posts pictures on social media like he’s out with movie stars and stuff.”

  Side note: Umm, we live in LA. The movie star is sometimes our waiter. I found out later that the prosecutor also mentioned a photo of him on Facebook in a Ferrari, “proving” he clearly has the money and is just choosing not to pay it back. The photo mentioned was my husband taking my stepdad for a ride in his friend’s Ferrari. My stepdad had never been in one and H (my husband) took him around the block in it. I posted a picture for my stepdad on his Facebook. I guess that’s what you call a lavish lifestyle, as well as “evidence” in the state of Texas. Also, H was dumb and wanted everyone to think he was awesome.

  (Back to the conversation)

  Me: “Hello! How long was he sentenced?!?!?!?!? And for what??????”

  Her: “Fourteen years. And he has to pay back the money when he gets out.”

  Drop the mic.

  Fourteen years??? I literally was supposed to pick him up from the airport a few hours later. I had no clue. And money??? What money?

  Did he have a clue? Maybe. He was acting out in our relationship recently. He even contacted an ex-girlfriend that I’m pretty sure he slept with, and I caught him texting some other girls. And a prostitute. And I found him on Tinder. You know, normal marriage stuff. As if standing by your man for a felony conviction, you didn’t know about, doesn’t make you feel stupid enough; having him cheat on you during the WHOLE situation helps…. And somehow him being so fucked up mentally that YOU feel bad for his situation is, like, a certain special type of brilliance. Who am I? He also got a mercy tattoo, against my objections, of my name. Tattooed. On his chest. His only tattoo. Talk about emotional terrorism.

  Moral of the story: maybe he knew more than I did about the impending issue. After a year of dealing with his destructive ways every month, in a brand-new marriage, is pretty much when most people would just take some Xanax and turn into a vegetable or move to Guam. I stayed right where I was, in hopes that this was like some bad weather that would blow over and settle, and life would resume.

  Now I have been sitting here all day literally doing stuff like Googling “What to do with your husband’s shit while he is in jail” and “What happens to an incarcerated person’s bills?” There is no Things to Do While Your Husband Is at the Farm for Dummies. When people are down and bleeding, that is when the wolves really come out. Will divorcing him immediately protect me from further lawsuits that he may have somehow gotten in to? Did I even know this person? Did I need to pay off his bills so he isn’t more screwed when he gets out some day?

  With all the money he didn’t leave me, that isn’t an option. The best part of being with someone who lies to you repeatedly, is when they spend all your community property cash like it’s the last money on earth and leave you with nothing. Not to mention you have their lifetime of accumulated belongings sitting in every corner of your home together as a reminder. I mean, where do I send his clothes? His shoes are still by the door like he is going to come home any minute and be like, “Got ya! Wasn’t this the best joke ever?”

  So, I am texting my friends, who are all out, either partying happily or planning for their new babies or their weddings. But I am here; listing my husband’s shit on eBay, hoping that I can pay down the bills and find an apartment that isn’t cockroach-infested. (I have lived with the cockroaches before, my friend, and I am not going back to that.) And now eBay has some dumb rule where you can only list a certain amount of stuff per month. The rest, I guess, I’ll have to get rid of on Craigslist. Is there a store called We Buy Your Shit, and they just pay you for some of the nice shit you have? What do I do with his car? I remember when my largest problem was what outfit to wear out with my friends.

  The sad part is that I thought he was such a dream. He was funny, charismatic, good-looking, charming, and kind-hearted. When he wasn’t pissing me off, he was even really fun. And man did we have fun. He could also be extremely giving. Even when we were hurting for money, he would buy other people’s dinner if they were having a hard time. He would help anyone in need, and he never asked for anything in return.

  Now, in hindsight, I realize it was probably guilt kindness. Making up for passed fucked-upness. Giving away your money all the time and having no boundaries is not going to bring you what you want. If you are being generous and paying for things because you think you should, but really it makes you feel like shit inside, you are going to have some problems.

  So, yeah, it sucks. Yes, it feels unjust. Did he deserve “14-years-in-jail” fuck up? I don’t know. The weirdest part about not being able to say goodbye and having him hauled off to jail, is I feel like he was either a) a dream that I made up and he was never here, and now I just get to pack up his shit as punishment for dreaming so
long. Or, b) he died.

  I literally am mourning the loss of a life I was building with someone, who was taken from me overnight, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why. Sure, on paper, I get it. Actually, not really. That court jargon shit makes zero sense. Have you ever heard of “misappropriation of fiduciary responsibility?” Yeah, me neither. It would have been helpful if he were more upfront, obviously. At times he was too optimistic, to the point where he didn’t take things as seriously as he should have. Maybe he was lying to himself. He clearly lied to me. But, like, cosmically and religiously, when it comes to his life now, when it comes to my life now... What. The. FUCK.

  Chapter 2:

  The Story of Me

  It’s hard to comprehend the gravity and the depth of what other people are going through until you have experienced true loss. Devastation. Mourning. Hurting. Pain. People these days can be summed up by what they post about their lives on Instagram (and we take that for complete realness now). My social media highlight reel used to be poppin’, I’ll tell you that much. Yet, in order for you to get how I ended up here, in the present moment, maybe I should go back to where it all began.

  I grew up in a small town in Laramie, Wyoming. People call it “God’s country,” beautiful or homegrown America. I couldn’t wait to leave this place, even when it was the only place I knew. As a little girl, I watched movies and read books about people in cities with opportunities and jobs, living lives I had never fathomed before. I had a deep-rooted sense of adventure, and I couldn’t wait to get out of the town that isolated me, from what I thought was “real,” and stat experiencing the rest of what the world had to offer. I guess I saw it in a movie or something. I decided very early on that the place for me would be California, and I would move there as soon as physically possible.