Part 2: The Web spite

I don't even like being here--in this place--where I am writing about "the Web spite", as one of my friends and I have come to know it. I just want it to go away. It is the scummy boyfriend who pops up after a few years ... the one that you are really, really over with. You know, the one you just need to go away. Forever.

You could never, ever see him again ... and you'd be fine with it.

That is the feeling I get when I think about what this girl has done to me--like I just want to hop in a hot shower and just scrub myself clean. Betrayal is dirty, which is why I need to comletely wash myself clean of this person, this Web spite, this situation.

After this, I'm done. I don't want to think about it, write about it, scream about it. I'm done feeling dirty over something dirty that was done to me.

So, regarding the story I hired M to write. (And if you are lost, read my previous post.) Her lead (her first paragraph of the story she wrote for me) was pretty much copy-and-pasted off of a Web site. I told her this was, um, something we like to call plagiarism in the journalism field. She emailed me back--demanding payment.

I got the first email on a Friday. I was at work, on my lunch break, with my co-worker, C. I looked down at my phone and saw the first line of the first email. "I am not surprised that you ..."

"Oh no!" I said over a hot chic-fil-a sandwich. "I can't read this. It's going to be bad. She plays dirty." I handed C the phone. She read the email and kind of shrugged at it. "Well, she wants to be paid for a plagiarized piece, but other than that, not too bad."

I had just finished my delightful little sandwich when my phone vibrated. I had another email. It was from her. "Also" was the subject line.

"Oh man. C, read this and please, just tell me if I can read it."

She held the phone in front of her and within seconds, her eyes said it all. She looked worried, frustrated ... appauled. And she had one thing to say:

"Suzy, this girl is NOT ... and NEVER WAS your friend." And she sat silently for a moment. "I want you to erase this right now."

"You better give me bullet points at least," I begged. "I have to at least know what it is about. Come on, dish."

After having tossed my phone to the side--as if it had been tainted by the message glaring upon its screen--she held it in her hands and began to read. But, then she stopped.

"All I can tell you is that think about every dark secret you have ever told this girl. And I mean, everything. She basically spells it all out in detail. She says you are living a lie and that she has been holding her tongue for years. She uses all of the stuff you confided in her about ... to attack you. To rip you to pieces"

And then she gave me the bullet points--that felt like bullets piercing my heart. "She went there?! What? But, how could I be living a lie? She knows what I went through after my sister died and how that messed me up. And how I acted out after that. And how much it hurt me that I cried until I could cry no more."

"She says it was all an excuse so you could do the things you did."

"An excuse!?" I was so angry--because you know, she was one of the only people who knew about "the stuff." "An excuse?! Oh, just let me run into this girl and I will show her excuse!"

I went through all of the emotions in a span of a few minutes and then I pulled it together. That night, I let hubby read the email. She attacks me. She attacks him. She attacks our marriage. She attacks everything that I stand for. She calls me a hypocrite and says that I am living a lie. She holds some really deep stuff over my head. She wanted me to be scared of the secrets that she knew about.

Little did she know, hubby knew everything.

"Everything she said that you are, she just did to you in this email," he said with his head down. "It's just ... really bad, Suzy. Really bad."

And at that point, I decided to block her from my email account. I felt so tainted, so betrayed and I refused to let this girl do this to me--ever again. That night, I sent her an email telling her, basically, that she had nothing on me.

And that I was more proud than ever about the colorful story I have. "I choose to be naked and not ashamed because of who my father God is," I told her. In short, I messed up bad, but God is going to use my mistakes one day--so that I can help other women.

You know, I simply refuse to be ashamed of anything. This girl has nothing on me--except for a duplicated idea for a Web site. There are no secrets. And you know what? I am embracing every ounce of my story. I have nothing to hide. One day, I'll proudly tell it all--when the timing is right.

For now, I love to think about the last line of her email that says "I really hope you seek help."

Honey, let me tell you about help. It is what I like to call "the block." You have been blocked. And I say that with a smug smile on my face.

(And since I know you are just dying to see the Web spite that I speak of, have fun: it's at momshare dot org. I am personally banned from ever looking at it again--you know, for my sanity.)

Part 1: The Betrayal

I was prepared to do my birthday post, but something else was weighing heavily on my heart. And I knew I had to blog it. I blog what comes to mind, and this has not left me.

So, it all started for me about two years ago, when God placed a clear vision on my heart for moms. I knew that I knew that I knew that I was supposed to start this Web site. I knew what I was going to name it (momgive.com) and to my surprise, the domain was available.

But, I prayed. I did not buy the domain until I knew that I was supposed to. If it was there six months down the road, I'd buy it. And so, I sat and I prayed and I hoped that this was meant to be.

Six months later, the domain was still for sale. And for $9.99, I bought it. That was in early 2008. So, I had the domain for a few months when I got a call from a very, very dear friend of mine. I had been in her wedding--that is how dear. "God told me to start a Web site with you, Suzy," she told me.

"What kind of Web site?" I asked her.

And her vision had something to do with "mom to mom." So, moms connecting to other moms and she wanted to include a husband's perspective. But, this had been done a million times over. And so, this is where I made my biggest mistake.

Instead of praying about it and seeking hubby's advice, I got so excited that I told her all about momgive. She was clearly excited about the vision and at that point, I told her that she could be a part of what I was doing.

A few months down the road, and my vision was being turned into something else. Our ideas for design clashed. She wanted angel wings and hearts on the Web site. I wanted professional, modern. It was at this point, that I had to remind her that I was the visionary and that I would have the final say about the final product.

That didn't sit well, and as a result, she opted to walk away. If she couldn't be my 50:50 partner, then she didn't want to do it. My bad for not setting really clear boundaries from the beginning. She felt like I had abandoned her. I apologized to her, saying that "If I hurt you, those were never my intentions, but God has given me this vision and I have to protect it."

Fastforward six months and I am on the phone with her discussing a possible freelance assignment that I had offered her. "I don't want you being mad and finding out from someone else," she said. "But, I started a Web site."

Me: "That's awesome! I always knew you would start your own site. What's it called?"

Her: "momshare"

Silence and um, I wasn't really sure what to say. I didn't really say much and hurriedly hung up with her so that I could check out said Web site. And when I pulled it up, I was dumbfounded.

Had she just taken everything I told her about and ... gulp ... duplicated it? What? Are you serious? Who does that?! I tried. I tried so hard. I even sent her an email saying that the Web site was behind me and that I wouldn't let it affect our friendship.

But, a few days later, I realized the depth of the betrayal that was right in front of my face. And so I emailed her and told her that it wasn't sitting well with me. "How is this any different than the idea I shared with you?" I wanted, I needed an explanation.

Her response stung. "As you recall," she wrote. "This was my idea."

At that point, I needed her to tell me in person. I needed to hear this from her mouth and so I called. "This was my idea, Suzy, and you are going to have to deal with it," she said.

"What?!" I felt like I could barely breathe. "Don't you remember that hour-long conversation when I told you in detail about my vision? Don't you remember when I had you over for dinner and -- in front of my husband -- we talked about how you could come on board with me. And he asked you why you wanted to be a part of this?"

"And I bought the domain in 2008. You bought yours, apparently, in 2009. What? How? I mean, I have the proof. I am not crazy!"

But, she was making me feel like I was. I felt like I was in the midst of a really bad 90s lifetime movie. Are you going to steal my kids next?

"Suzy, if you can't deal with this being my idea, then I don't have time for this phone call."

Me: "You. little." CLICK.

Yep. I hung up before I let anything slip out of my more-than-angry mouth. I mean,had she really done this? I pored over the words on her Web site and it made me even more angry. She talked about God giving her this vision and she talked about people jumping in (and out) of the project.

Hubby caught me one day staring at her Web site and with tears streaming down my face, I shouted--between sobs--to him. "That's me! She's talking about me. I am the parenthesis in this sentence! How. could. she?! TELL ME RIGHT NOW. TELL ME HOW!"

I was beyond angry. I was seeing red. I remember picking up this cup that held all of my pens and just throwing it against the wall. He tried to hold me and I screamed for him to get away. "JUST WHY. WHY WOULD SHE DO THIS TO ME?"

Well, a few days later, I received an email from her. She had just turned in her freelance assignment that I had hired her to do. And it was like ...

It never happened.

"Please let me know what you think and if I need to edit this piece in any way. And, by the way, when do you need my headshot?"

--TO BE CONTINUED.

(In my standard three days. There's too much to put it in one blog. It only got worse before I had to block her email address from my email account. Oh, the drama. Thank God, it's over now. But, I still shutter when I think of "the email." Yes, as I have come to call it "the email." Please, prepare yourself for it. It was, to date, the worst email I have ever received from anyone. Ever.)