best of me. What I had been led to believe was the sound decision had turned out to be one of the worst decisions of my life, filling my days with pain and anguish and causing me to lose precious time with court-mandated therapy sessions that none of us needed. I was so frustrated and angry with myself for having allowed this into our lives that tears welled up in my eyes, and for the first time since this entire ordeal exploded with my husband more than a year earlier, I cried in front of my children.
As we drove home, they chatted away in the back seat, asking me questions that I could not answer because I was choked up inside. It was not until we got home and they got out of the car that they saw my red, swollen eyes. Immediately they sprang into action, hugging me and kissing me all over, just as I do with them when they are sad. Moved by their reaction, I took a deep breath and said, “Mami also gets sad sometimes and that’s OK. Soon I will be fine, because your kisses and hugs cure everything.”
The following day, Wednesday, November 11, at 2:30 p.m., we received a visit from the social worker at the PGN, who came to assess my children’s current living conditions at my home. “It is obvious that your children are very well taken care of in every sense,” she said before she left.
—
During those three months after my time in the holding cell, I found myself crying constantly, sometimes it seemed as if for days on end. My body, my mind, and my heart were spent. Not only was I dealing with an accusation of criminal association in a criminal case for embezzlement (fraud), and a family case at PGN in the hope of regaining custody of my children, I had also decided to file a lawsuit against the magazine Contrapoder, which had written articles about my husband and me, but most importantly, had published unblurred photos of my children’s faces, which they had taken from my Facebook page. This was unforgivable and as much as I did not want another legal battle, I could not let this go unpunished. My children had already been harmed, and I was now determined to try and make sure that this did not happen to anyone else.
So, there I was, suddenly facing the abrupt end of my marriage, an impending divorce, my unforeseen unemployment, unexpected legal proceedings, and the damage caused by tarnishing my good name and reputation in the public eye. I’m sure any single one of these situations would cause most people to temporarily crumble, yet somehow, I was still standing.
As much as my loved ones insisted that I should remain strong, that I could do it, that I had everything it takes to survive this enormous blow in my life, there were times when I couldn’t see it clearly and I just needed to vent and rest. Despite every word of wisdom and gesture of love and support, I felt no one truly understood me; I sometimes felt very alone.
—
November 17, 2015, finally arrived and I anxiously set out for my hearing before a family judge, hoping that we’d be able to resolve this issue once and for all. I was much calmer this time. I had wonderful people attesting to my ability as a mother and I had concluded that the worst thing that could happen had already happened. The situation could only remain the same or change for the better. We went through two hours of legal proceedings, testimonies, reports, and finally the judge decided to suspend my mother’s temporary guardianship and return it to me. The social worker would still visit us every two months for the next six months, my mother and I would continue with our designated parenting classes, and my children and I would continue our state therapy until the therapist deemed it no longer necessary.
I was hopeful that the state therapist who had told us on our first visit that we were fine would give us the all clear, and my children and I would be allowed to put this latest episode behind us. So, after our hearing, I eagerly called this therapist to tell him the news and to cancel our appointment, but I was informed that therapists cannot speak to their patients unless it is during scheduled appointments. Bureaucracy = ineptitude = inefficiency = no logic = lack of common sense . . . welcome to my new world.
—
November 27 rolled in and I turned forty-seven years old. I wasn’t planning on celebrating my birthday that year, so my mother invited her best friend, her friend’s daughter, my children, and me out for breakfast. Later, my friend Anabelle invited us to her yearly Friday Thanksgiving celebration and she had a surprise cake for me. Then, several friends insisted on coming over to my home to celebrate. So I went from not wanting to celebrate to rejoicing in the presence of my loved ones, regardless of the current circumstances.
On December 1, I went back to the courthouse for my pretrial hearing. I arrived with my mother—my father arrived later. I was quickly learning that my best plan was to have no expectations, so I entered the building at peace with whatever might transpire. When my attorney Miranda arrived, he was surprised to see that our counterparts were not there. Our name was called and we entered the courtroom. Miranda argued that since my accuser had already made a civil claim against my husband and his accountant before he included me in his second claim, this one criminal, this second process should be stopped until a decision had been made regarding the first. Because my first judge had recused herself, we were now beginning what would be a very long list of temporary judges serving on my case. This new judge required that my attorney’s petition be made in writing instead of verbally, which meant the actual hearing was postponed until December 14.
I went home that day and continued my life as I had done thus far. A couple of days later, I was on my way to meet several of my girlfriends for lunch to celebrate our birthdays, but was running late because my children had ballet practice that morning, so I told them to start without me. When I finally arrived, I bumped into one of my friends at the entrance. She was talking on her cell phone but quickly stopped and asked, “Have you seen our group chat?”
“No,” I replied. “Is our lunch canceled?”
“No,” she said, “but Olyslager is sitting at the table next to ours! We were wondering if you would rather change venues.”
Incredibly, I felt nothing but the arrival of an unexpected opportunity. If anyone should be uncomfortable and leave under these circumstances, it should be him, not me. I was not about to cower away from him. So, I entered the restaurant, walked right by him, and received a warm welcome by my dear friends. I sat in the chair they had saved for me, with my back to Olyslager and his two friends. My friends later told me that he seemed fidgety and uncomfortable, putting on his sunglasses and taking them off constantly. Several other people I knew left their tables to come say hello and give me a hug. Eventually, he left. A small yet priceless victory for me.
One of the most common questions I am asked regarding Olyslager’s accusations against me is, “What do the Mayora & Mayora law firm and the US timber investment company Global Forest Partners have to do with any of it?” My first judge, Jisela Reinoso Trujillo, the one who recused herself for being first cousin to Olyslager’s attorney, Frank Trujillo, expressed the exact same sentiment during my first hearing. It was explained to her that my husband had allegedly awarded Olyslager a farm belonging to GFP as a guarantee for the personal investment that Olyslager had extended him. Mayora & Mayora are GFP’s legal counsel, hired to protect their interests in Guatemala (GFP owns Forestal Ceibal and Forestal Chaklum, the entities said farms belong to). I can only imagine that somewhere along the line, Trujillo and Mayora & Mayora realized that if one party had the farm that the other party wanted returned, their best bet was to join forces instead of fight against each other. All Mayora & Mayora needed to get Olyslager on their side was for him to believe that a judge would never award him the farm, and that he would lose everything if he did not join them by giving his statement against me. But, after another judge declared that my husband did have the legal faculty to award those farms as a guarantee to Olyslager, he no longer needed GFP or this entire situation he had agreed to. Unfortunately, by then, he had already given a false statement to the authorities and could not get out of it so easily. This is what I believe happened behind the scenes before this case was brought before a judge.
In
