Last year, sci-fi author and my great friend, Jennifer Brody, and I released a graphic novel called 200. This book is a story that touches upon love, marriage, divorce, and why you shouldn’t choose someone who won’t choose you back.
The high pitch:
In a world where death and disease has been defeated, one thing medical science can’t cure is deterioration of the mind. Citizens are given 200 years to live before they are collected by government agents and forced to take the Centurial Assessment Test or CAT. If you pass the test, you can go on to live past 200 as an elite Milennial, but if you fail, you die. 200 follows the tale of Eva, whose husband has already been taken away by the agents six months earlier, on the way to her own CAT. Things go sideways when she discovers a man who looks like her husband on the other side and she goes on the run. What follows is a dark, sexy parable exploring how much you should value the past over your future.
Keen, right? The story started as Jen’s short story, to explore her personal situation with a marriage that was in question. When she found me, I was recovering from my own royally shitty divorce. And oh man, we had so much in common. We clicked! I just had to work on making this short story of hers into a graphic novel.
And because we collaborated on this novel, just know that many, many elements of this book are all about exposing the faults in my own failed marriage.
Haha, I’m burying the lede here. This is the story of how I smashed my ex-husband in the face with a graphic novel about how he’s trash on his literal wedding day to his new wife.
Ready your napkins cuz tea is getting spilled.
First, let’s talk about why my marriage was trash. I married my ex-husband, we’ll call him Percy because that’s a stupid name, when I was 19 years old. I got coerced into it. He needed me to marry him for citizenship reasons and I complied. I was a 19 year old girl in love. Of course I had to *save* Percy from the cruel fate of deportation. I stayed married to him for way longer than I had any business doing. He wasn’t good to me. He didn’t encourage my dreams. He never made me feel pretty or wanted, but because he was slightly less shitty than the other guys around him, I thought I had found such a prize and kept him at all costs, including to my self esteem. Sure, he depleted my spirit with his criticisms and low key insults (he used to call me ‘Mexican’ because he thought that was funny). But he didn’t stop me from creating three comic book IP’s before our marriage ended. And why did it end? Because he got a girlfriend who didn’t challenge him like I did. Some girl easier to manipulate than me, because by that point in our marriage, I got real good at throwing down the word No. No, I am not going on a three day long hike with you in the woods without training up to it, Percy. No, I am not going to let you spend a pile of money on a new car you don’t need. No, I will not stand for you telling me not to sign my own work. In the words of Beyonce, No, no. So, I’m sure home girl said yes, and he refused to give her up. So I left. Hell yes, it was acrimonious. The guy who pledged to be with me forever had callously replaced me. Of course I was upset. A woman scorned is usually mad for pretty good reasons if anyone bothers to ask.
But I moved on. I lived my life. I rebuilt.
8 years had gone by. I was minding my own business one Friday morning. I had planned on drawing some comics for my day job. I was making tea. I hadn’t watered my plants yet. And then a mysterious text message arrived on my phone. It looked like an accidental web meeting invite. My number is similar to other folks. I figured someone might’ve hit one digit off and sent me the thing by mistake. No big deal.
I responded with something simple to let them know it was a wrong number for me.
And then shit got weird.
I saw a phone call coming from Percy. This was very strange because I hadn’t had a conversation with him since 2016, when he tried to enter my life after our divorce and I said in no uncertain terms fuck off. I wanted no part of this man in my life after our divorce. The way things went down was bad and what I learned from it is that he should not be in my life going further. So what the hell was Percy doing calling me after 6 years?
I hit the red phone. I did not pick up. What part of fuck off did you miss, Percy?
Then I get a text message from Percy’s phone.
In 2014, I was with [mistress.]
I was supposed to get married today, but my fiancee found out I cheated on you.
Egh, sorry, Julie, but my fiancee just texted that.
Well. That sure was something. I didn’t even know he was dating.
I calmly responded to Percy saying he should be more honest with his fiancee going forward but none of this situation has anything to do with me. I told him I hoped he could get his deposits back (lol)
I thought that was that, but oh no. The crazy kept going.
Then the fiancee started texting me.
I am supposed to marry Percy today but I am concerned. He cheated on you with [mistress] so why would I be any different. He told me [another lie] but I looked it up and [confirmed it was a lie].
Oh, girl, would you like to talk? I texted back. Percy was definitely doing some scheming and scamming here and I had to get to the bottom of it.
Did I mention Percy is a scammer? Because he is. A very good one too. I’ll get into that another time.
So I took a phone call from the fiancee. It went a little rough at first because I laughed in her face when he told me she was about to marry my scammer ex-husband but was concerned because was scamming her. I mean girl????? It’s like if someone picked up the chewed up gum you spat out on the sidewalk, put it in their mouth and complained about the taste. I couldn’t help but laugh. I felt like I was calling into the greatest radio show ever, except I was starring in it as the guest star: the evil ex-wife!
Side note: I apologized for laughing.
Of course calling in the evil ex-wife was Percy’s goal. Scammers are great at deflecting. He got caught in a few lies, and decided to play us against each other to slime his way out of it. I’m very familiar with his tactics.
But things didn’t go quite to plan. I was actually really supportive of the fiancee. I don’t know this girl. Also, she doesn’t know Percy like I do. She doesn’t know how buttery smooth he is at avoiding accountability. After divorcing him, I had to become Jules: the vampire slayer so I’d never get caught up with a guy like him again.
No, literally. It’s the topic of the very first Love, Joolz comic.
I bet you think this song is about you.
Anyway, this poor girl, let’s call her Kimmy, was caught up in such a situation: engaged to be married that day, but just now finding out her betrothed is a charlatan. (which begs the question why did she wait till the wedding day to do any digging?) Kimmy was in a terrible spot. Should she go forth with the nuptials and be married to the next Dirty John? Or should she upset the family who likely spent a lot of money on their [bougie white people location] wedding and call the whole thing off? That’s a lot of pressure.
Compare and contrast my challenges that morning: Draw pictures of squirrels.
I decided to be brave and tell her the truth in an honest and caring way. I had nothing against Kimmy. I was fine with her picking up my used-up trash man. Have at it, girl. He’s all yours. Maybe she could upcycle him. But I told the truth anyway. I told Kimmy flat out what being married to Percy was like for me. It wasn’t great. I listed all the problems he caused and all the dreams he broke. I told her do not marry him and left things at that. Then she graciously thanked me for my time and input, moving on with her day. I felt sad for her and even him, all caught up in lies and distrust and pain. I had hoped they would find a way to peace.
Oh, but Percy didn’t want peace. He wanted war. And he was gonna get it.
Kimmy called me back. There was more.
Thankfully, my cup of tea was ready.
Kimmy was distraught. Percy had continued arguing with her after our last phone call, and now had some things to say about me. Nothing nice. Everything terrible. Pure bile. He was not pleased with me. And Kimmy felt I should know about this.
I pushed back, saying this was not productive. Everyone needed to get into separate spaces to parse what had happened here. I tried to keep the conversation as level and calm as possible…but then Percy finally got on the phone.
“Listen…Julie—”
Let me interrupt the action for a second.
I don’t let anyone call me Julie anymore. If you call me Julie and you aren’t a blood relative, I consider that peak disrespect. It’s a type of deadnaming. Julie was who I was when I was his sad, beaten down wife. Julie was vulnerable and weak. I became Jules after Julie died on a train to San Diego, after saying her final goodbyes to her so-called sweet prince. Suffocated and died on her tears. I woke up as Jules.
And Jules Rivera will not stand for getting deadnamed.
“My name is Jules! JULES! JULES FUCKING RIVERA! SAY IT!” I shot back at him.
Oh and I was on speaker so I got to Heisenberg him in front of Kimmy and his in-laws. I made him say my name. And then I lit his ass up for lying to this girl and wasting my time. Then, in typical Love, Joolz fashion, I left with a very sweet sign off for dear Kimmy. And Percy…well I told him he had to go back to therapy.
I hung up. There would be no phone calls after that.
Later that night, Kimmy followed up with me via text. Suddenly, she wasn’t so convinced I was telling her the truth.
Hey, I believe [Percy]. I thought about it and what you say does not add up. Just because he spent [A Dodge Charger] on my rings. Decorates our living room with over 30 different balloons for Valentine’s Day. Took me to Hawaii for my birthday. Told [the same mistress! he went back to her!] not to contact him again, when she tried to be his friend. Gave me your info when I was nervous. Sorry he hurt you, but you sound like a scorned and vengeful ex. If he was that bad, you never had to email him about his family in [war torn country]. Good luck in your life.
Sadly, my tea isn’t as strong as his kool-aid.
Let’s unpack this, shall we? There’s so much.
Percy is a textbook narcissist. He flip-flops somewhere between Grandiose and Covert. The way they lure people into relationships with them is by a process called Love bombing. Love bombing is when a narcissist overloads you with positive experiences and feelings so you’ll stay with them when they get real selfish and nasty on you. In this case, Percy’s obvious love bombing tactics were the expensive rings, the Valentine’s day balloons (which he did to me too) and the trip to Hawaii.
Side note: If you go to Hawaii in this pandemic, I’m judging you so hard about it. The Hawaiian natives have been telling your dumb ass not to go to their island and you went anyway. Colonizer bastard energy. Disrespect. You suck and I judge you for it.
Also, I think it’s completely hilarious he bought a woman with balloons. Balloons!
I need to make a sticker that says “Bitches Love Balloons.”
Anyway, it’s obvious to me that Percy got to her and kept getting to her. He wasn’t so keen on me being super cool besties with Kimmy, so he had to turn her against me. And he succeeded. Her messages to me got nastier and nastier to the point where I had to email her not to contact me again.
Now, it sounds easy to blame her. After all, she said some pretty unpleasant, borderline racist things. But you have to remember Percy is the one pulling all the strings here. So I sent him a final email too.
And because I would love for you all to know how I handle narcissists, here it is:
You gave your fiancee my personal phone number and my email, which she has abused. I told her in no uncertain terms she is not to contact me again. What you have done is an act of abuse.
You are not to contact me again. I never could have imagined the guy who stressed such a peaceful parting of ways would involve me in his violent union. I had reached out to show you one tiny crumb of sympathy [about your family in the war torn country] and this is how you repay me. And you wonder why I threw you out of my life.
Do not use my name to justify whatever lies you tell that girl. I have long since moved on from you. I suggest you move on from me before it destroys the only marriage you're likely to get again. And if you think divorcing me was bad, try divorcing [rich white girl] money.
You lied to that girl. You baited her into contacting me. You knew what I would do. You are the manipulator here. And I see you. But go ahead and tell her I'm the bad guy. I'm the mean ol' ex wifey trying to get in the way of your happiness with my yelling. Tell her I'm a witch. No, really I am. Here's the proof, my graphic novel. 200. It's on Amazon!
[I also included the google drive link for them to download the book for free]
Read all the way to the afterword. I'm good at what I do. You will know why.
Never call me Julie again. Julie died. I am Jules fucking Rivera.
Good bye.
No love, Joolz.
And it’s true! 200 has been on Amazon for a year and a half. I blew up this fool’s spot from a year and a half ago and he just now gets to find out.
Oh and I Bcc’d Kimmy too because why shouldn’t she have a copy of This is Why Your Man is Trash: The Graphic Novel?
Best wedding present ever.
After that email was sent, I threw Percy into my email block. That’s the thing with narcissists. At best you can keep them at arm’s length, but Percy went malignant. He had to go. Letting him stay in contact with me would only bring more drama to my doorstep.
And I’m pretty sure I told him to fuck off 8 years ago.
That’s my anti-love story. And honestly one of the most validating events of my life. My ex-husband was so distraught over his wedding to the new girl, he had to drag me into it. And I got to dog walk him in front of his whole family which was incredible. No notes. I hope one day we all get such justice against our abusers.
This is not to say I’ve given up on finding loving, intimate connection. I just have to be more careful how I go about finding it now. I’ve had to learn not to trust people who throw balloons or trips or fancy party invites to lure me in. I’ve had to learn to protect my heart from all that. If I don’t, not only will no one else protect me, but I’ll get hurt and then blamed for letting another man hurting me.
Frankly, I’d rather be blamed for hurting them. Hard.
I believe true love and respect are out there for me. Sure, it’s not back with Percy and friends, but I believe it’s somewhere. I know I have a lot to offer the right person. I have to stay believing because the one thing I refuse to let Percy or anyone else take away from me is my hope for the future. Things didn’t work out for me in the past, but that doesn’t have to stay the case. I know someone out there will be excited to be close to me some day.
200 is about the past, but my heart lives in the future.
-Love, Joolz