Not only did my husband steal my child, but also my stuff. I was able to take a good chunk of my wardrobe with me during our separation, but the things I still had at our marital apartment were as good as gone.

He packed a couple of boxes of my things in order to not look bad in front of the court, but all the furniture, cookware, my daughter’s stuff, and my remaining clothes were taken hostage. He went so far as to give me one pillow from each of two pillow sets so that they were unusable.

Everything was done for the purpose of revenge. I was quite sure he wasn’t going to wear my red Stuart Weitzman boots or use any of my cookware. My wedding ring was held hostage as well as the sentimental items from my daughter’s younger years.

I was positive that he did not care about any of the art or decor in the apartment. When we first moved in I put my heart and soul in decorating our new home exactly to my taste. Everything was metallic, shiny, and grand. I wanted my home to be reminiscent of my heritage and childhood, so I created oversized paintings of my native St. Petersburg to be hung in the living room with the help of an artist.

It was an especially tough night when the three of us were walking down the block to drop my daughter off. I was in tears. Not only did I miss her like crazy, but I was completely overwhelmed. It was like he was trying to run me over with a bulldozer every day. I had just found out, completely by chance, that my husband was planning on moving to a new apartment with my daughter. I did not know where or when. I was completely losing control.

As we neared the building, I noticed that both of the front doors were propped open. We stopped and peered at the commotion at the front door, and that’s when I saw it. A middle-aged, unfamiliar man had my oversized St Petersburg painting in his arms and was carrying it out the door. I lost it.

“That’s my painting!!!”, I cried.

I was holding my daughter’s hand and she repeated my words.

“That’s myyy paintiiiing!!”

I broke down in sobs. The man looked stunned and scared.

“What?? I just bought this from Joe! I’m so sorry”

I was still sobbing. I started to apologize to the bewildered looking man.

“I’m sorry. I’m just dealing with a really ugly divorce. Don’t listen to me”

The man didn’t know what to do. He just kept apologizing. I kept sobbing. Eventually the man left to go put the painting in his car, and we walked inside the lobby to drop my daughter off. As we walked back out Melanie had her arm around me while I cried and ranted incessantly.

“I’m so sorry, Paulina”, she kept telling me.

About halfway down the block the man appeared again.

“Hey! Excuse me!”

I couldn’t imagine what he wanted and why he chased me down the street. Was he going to give me a piece of his mind for yelling at him?

“Look, you can have the painting. I have kids too and I’ve been through a divorce and my heart broke when I heard your little girl say that this is her painting. Just let me know how I can contact you and I’ll work it out.”

It wasn’t the painting itself that was making me so upset. It was the fact that someone had the power to make all my possessions disintegrate. There was nothing I could do to stop it. All the work I put into my life for the past 4 years was just gone.

“Thank you so, so much. I’ll give you my number.”, I replied to him.

He never called and I never got my painting back. But the fact that he ran after me and made the effort to make it right was satisfaction enough for me. It was just more validation that what he was doing was not only unfair, but absolutely appalling. In my current state I needed this affirmation more than the painting.

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