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 “It is one thing to attack me, but to come after my wife…”

-Frank Underwood

Corbins in the Courtroom

Today was the day we were off to court (again). A yearly exercise that my husband and I go through as someone from his past would ceaselessly drag us just to be disruptive.


And we thought that after having our baby, it would finally be quiet and the universe would let us live our lives as we always planned and wanted to. Yet on the 28th of June, I received a visit from a postal inspector representing that I am being “interviewed” as I was suspected to have disseminated damaging material to besmirch the reputation of no other than his ex girlfriend. The woman that has incessantly dragged my name to their custody battle demanding numerous times that she needed to meet me. My husband never agreed as he knew too well that this was her manipulation to show her control over his life. The same woman that falsely accused my husband of sexual harassment. The same woman that had forged his signature in insurance claims checks.


I do not usually speak of these things but enough is enough.


The inspector came to my place of business, my husband’s place of work, and our home where my husband was not able to answer the door since I saw on the cctv that he was putting the baby to sleep. Instead, I communicated through the interactive camera of our Vivint security system and advised him that I had already told him earlier to come back to the bakeshop after my class with the children. To which he then hurriedly went back and we had a chat. As soon as he entered the door where the event was being recorded on our security system including the entire conversation, I asked why he was stalking me in a half joking manner. To cut the long story short, he seemed like an emissary telling me to back off from someone. My simple statements to him were:


• First, I see you have copy of blogs I have since 2015 that our accuser claim were used to besmirch her reputation. Yup, the blogs where I shared the death of my daughter which she claimed is about her. The same blogs that are unauthenticated and no longer published online. The same blogs that were used to support her false sexual harassment claim against my husband (the same time we lost our daughter) – That the judge dismissed in a heartbeat.

• Second, I am a foreigner in this country. I am 8,000 miles away from my family and friends. I just opened a business three months ago, we just had a baby, we have given her primary custody of their child, I just published a book sent to the new York times for review, yes, I seem to have a lot of time on my hands, right?


At the end of the conversation, he said in consistently conflicting statements: “ I don’t think you did it, but we have to respond to this complaint. I will tell her there is nothing here. But if you did, Stop. But I see and I don’t think you are a violent person. But I also have been in this line of job where I meet people who lie. On the other hand, there are people that no matter what you do would be envious of you. And if she fabricated this to set you up because I have seen this in my line of work, she will be held accountable.” (????) That was the most conflicting paragraph I have written. Seriously.


I understand that what this young gentleman saw was the baker and the legal wife. What he did not see is the criminal psychologist nor the profiler. I have, after all set that aside to be wife and mother. I asked him questions to enlighten him: how did you know my business address? She gave it. I see… How did you know my husband’s place of work? She gave it. I see…. How did you know our home address? She gave it. I see…. How did you know my phone number and called me from a blocked phone? She gave it... I see...


If the content of the said damaging document was about her arrest record which is online on STL Mug shots for public access, why blame us for it? Why not sue STL Mug shots? If it stated something about not paying a contractor, why did you not reach out to the contractor first? (The same contractor that she filed (again) false sexual harassment claims the same year and a few months apart when she filed against my husband – not five years ago as she stated. Thereby, she misled the good inspector).


Having worked as a resource for the FBI and Interpol in several countries, I could tell right off the bat that this was not in the books. We sought advise from my embassy who reached out to their head office in Chicago, there were indeed discrepancies in the process and manner to which this “interview” was conducted. But no, as I said in our meeting when my husband and I went to the postal inspector's office and met up with his supervisor to clarify his actions – we have no plans to file any course of action against him personally or the postal inspector’s office per se. He was simply a good guy with false information. He may seem to have a little temper issue, but no,  I will not participate in wasting more American tax payer’s money.


We went to court with my choice of lawyer. John Bouhasin. A seasoned criminal attorney and former criminal prosecutor. He widely represents law enforcers in St. Louis, and the rich Italian mobs (just kidding!). And ultimately for me, he dresses well in his tailored suit. He was upfront and gave us the whole scenario. Just like how someone should represent you. Someone who understands what your objective is.  I like that. 


We knew too well before entering trial what the outcome will be. In the judge’s eyes, here we go again with another dispute from people who are not married but want the same law to apply to them. I get it.


The respondent’s lawyer said, they will withdraw if we would. My husband said, Nope, four years she has taken effort to disrupt our life and has used the legal system meant for people who really need it. We will not be continuously threatened with court dates and false allegations. So here we are, let her face us. It sounded really sexy hearing him say that with his deep voice, but I was still feeling stoic from what we were going through.


So there we were on trial. I was 6 feet away from the woman that I never met but constantly attacked me. I remember the first time I realized that: A 6am call the day after our wedding. We were still in bed. Our first night together as husband and wife. A few weeks thereafter, my husband was in the kitchen yelling on the phone, “That’s my wife! That’s my wife!” I was oblivious what was going on. Apparently, she had referred to me as a hoochie and a nobody. I was like, why? I don’t even know her. I was clueless.


I later on looked up what it meant. Google says: “a young woman who has many casual sexual partners or who dresses or behaves in a sexually provocative way.”

Hmmm… This, was coming from a woman who has two children out of wedlock and a man she lived with for 7 years but wouldn’t marry her… I really didn’t even know what to say to that.


Anyway, going back to court, our lawyer already gave us the rundown of what was to happen and what our options were. Again, my husband was firm, let’s go to trial. And so we did.


He spoke in a very calm manner. He was composed and knew by heart what message he wanted to give. I felt painfully embarrassed for her that a man would emphasize an exes hateful behavior. He always emphasized, we were never engaged (something she always claimed that they were. She always referred to herself as an ex fiance or ex spouse). Never proposed to her, he stressed.


He concluded his statement with ‘…. All I wanted was to have a life with my wife and child and just that…” And there you go hunny, I wanted to cry, sit on your lap and hug you. But I had make up on, my hair was nicely done, my cream white Chanel pantsuit was well pressed and my Parisian heels told me to just sit down.


My affidavit had four pages. Not including the annexes and evidences. I looked across to the other table. She was alone other than the lawyer she paid for, her hair was unkempt, no make up, she wore her uniform that seemed crumpled. For crying out loud, my Birkin bag perched on the table cost more than her entire year’s salary. I felt terrible. My father always told me, choose your battles, pick someone your own size. I whispered to my self, sorry Papa, but this is the last time this woman will disrupt our life. I was sworn in, and all I said in my crackling voice was that: “I am not seeking a protective order against her because I am not scared or threatened of her, but because I wish the court would give us a reprieve from the disruption that we go through every year. I can’t live my life this way. I just cant. I just want to be with my husband and our child without this constant disruption. I just want her to stay away from us. Period”


There were more questions asked by my lawyer that would show how she kept abreast with our lives, used the child to send messages, analytics from my website to show her IP address and the number of times she looked at my public page. I only mentioned of one but I also realized that I may put my step daughter in trouble if I put it out there – photos, recordings and even videos. Would it be worth it? I will not do that to a child knowing her history.


I have chosen my battle. This woman had no one with her. The four years we have been back and forth to court, she had no family nor friends with her except that one time she was with one person that my husband knew of from his highschool. Why? No idea. We don’t run in the same circles, don’t live in the same type of neighborhood, not same level of education, not income, nor lineage. It’s not a match. I felt sorry for her. So I just decided to figuratively hold her head at arm’s length as she threw the punches in the air and maybe she’d feel better afterwards.


Is there anything else you would like to say? Atty. Bouhasin asked. “She needs help.” Strike! Her lawyer said.


She was then sworn in, it was so awkward to see she was struggling where to put her left arm. Whether down to the side or on her waist. She went back and forth with this gesture a couple of times, eventually, she swore in with her right hand and the left on her hip. I just shook my head. I looked behind us and saw that the other people waiting their turn for trial were also shaking their heads looking confused.


She ofcourse stressed what she believed was her truth. What she didn’t expect was our rockstar legal counsel handing her lawyer documents from the County Police proving that she was not falsely arrested (imagine months of investigation, research and subpoenas to the banks). That she DID forge my husband’s signature for checks amounting to over twenty five thousand dollars. The judge for some reason did not accept it. (Too bad for the law enforcers that worked on the case for months, and boohoo for the prosecutor) Yes, I am as clueless as you are. I was confused because that was our response to her false allegations. But our objective was met. Our counsel delivered. We got our message across directly to her. That’s all that mattered to my husband. Her lawyer also tried to put into evidence a printed copy of what was supposedly my blog. She claimed I had written the blog specifically about her. She was asked to read a portion, all I heard was nothing but a plagiarized version of a write up about my life in Missouri. Again, dismissed by the judge as not acceptable evidence.


She went on to testify that the letters her family and friends received that were damaging her reputation were from her facebook friends list. In my mind, how did she know specifically that it was from her Facebook friends list? Did she create the mailing list herself? Which goes back to the other conclusion the Postal Inspector surmised. When asked why she pointed at us for disseminating the warning letters that indicated her mug shot, she said we were the only ones who knew about the contractor. The one she did not pay even after receiving the insurance claim checks. Uhmmm… What about the contractor himself? Did he or his family not know about the case? (cricket… cricket…..)


After all the parties said their piece, the judge sighed and said, this is a simple case of two people who should stay away from each other. And as for you Mrs. Corbin, all I can say is, you married into this…. Tan ta ta taaaaaannnnn… I just smiled at her. She looked tired.


As I stood up to return back to our petitioner’s seat, a young lady waiting for her own trial smiled at me and gave me the thumbs up. Not sure what that meant but I just smiled back.


I wrote this blog to emphasize the obvious:

• This is my blog, I blog about my self and my experiences and what my take is on these life experiences. You may like it, you may not. It really doesn’t matter to me.

• There are always two versions to a story, the other person’s version, and the truth. THIS is the truth. These are FACTS and I can support it with empirical evidence. Not some form of false press release to vilify my husband.

• That the allegations of having her falsely arrested for forging my husband’s signature is not substantiated. If I want to destroy someone’s reputation, I could just post the links from STL Mug shots and the case number from the County Police, a long time ago. All documents are public records anyway. I will not spend on stamps for trivial matters.

• That the court awarded her full custody of the child. No. It was a difficult decision for us to make but they both agreed using my husband's legal counsel that the mother will have primary custody with additional child support. 

• That the least she could have said was Thank you. I loved and took care of your child like my own. We gave her good memories and a comfortable loving environment. Taught her culture, kindness and manners. How could one be so hateful of that? Thank you would have sufficed.

•That my husband may not be perfect. Hell, sometimes, He may be a jerk. (Haha!) But he is MY jerk. And I hold him accountable. Because that is what real wives do. We will support you, but I will not tolerate your undesirable behaviour. But I will also stand by you. Because I love you enough. Husbands after all are like every wife’s eldest child.

• That if you are reading this blog, print it or screen shot it, I just captured your IP address. A unique digital footprint that tells me who and where you are. The wonders of modern technology. And if she is reading this now, and since we do not have anything in common or no connection whatsoever, she just proved my point who’s stalking who. So STOP.