HOW I MARRIED A BIGAMIST
By S.N. Cole
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How I Married a Bigamist: My Journey of Love, Betrayal, and the Shocking Truth is a heart-wrenching and empowering memoir by author S.N. Cole.
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HOW I MARRIED A BIGAMIST - S.N. Cole
DEDICATION
To my beloved daughters, whose unwavering love and support have been my constant source of inspirations. You are my greatest achievements and my proudest legacies.
To my family and friends, who have cheered me on and lifted me up throughout the writing process, your encouragement and belief in me has been the guiding light that has led me to this point. I thank you for your love and support.
To everyone who has read this book and has contributed with their support and feedback, your invaluable contributions has helped shape this work. I am grateful for the opportunity to share my thoughts and experiences with you. Thank you for taking the time to read my words and for being a part of this journey.
To all those who have loved and lost, whose hearts have been broken and mended, and whose experiences have shaped them into the remarkable people they are today.
Finally, I want to dedicate this book to myself, for having the courage to love, to lose, and to learn. May these stories serve as a reminder that failed relationships are not the end, but rather the beginning of new chapters. With each experience, we grow stronger, wiser, and more resilient.
Love,
S.N. Cole
FOREWORD
When I first had the privilege of reading S.N. Cole’s powerful manuscript, I was immediately drawn into a world of raw emotion and profound self-discovery. As someone who has also experienced relationship traumas, I found solace in the pages that unfolded before me. It was as if S.N. Cole had reached deep into my heart and extracted my own unspoken fears and insecurities, giving them a voice and offering them a path to healing.
What sets this book apart is not just the remarkable honesty with which S.N. Cole shares her story, but also the compassion and empathy with which she approaches her readers. Through her own experiences, she offers invaluable insights, practical guidance, and heartfelt encouragement to those who are walking similar paths of pain and struggle. She reminds us that our traumas do not define us, but rather serve as catalysts for growth and self-discovery.
It Is my fervent hope that this book reaches the hands of every person in need of its healing message. Whether you have personally experienced relationship traumas or know someone who has, the wisdom and compassion found within these pages will undoubtedly touch your heart and provide a guiding light in the darkest of times.
I am deeply honored to have the opportunity to introduce you to this extraordinary work. Prepare to embark on a transformative journey as you turn the pages of S.N. Cole’s poignant and empowering book. May it be a source of solace, hope, and healing for all who read it.
Kimya Dawn
PREFACE
Dear Survivors,
In this candid and heartfelt book, S.N. Cole invites readers on a deeply personal journey through the complex tapestry of relationship traumas.
Drawing from her own experiences, S.N. Cole fearlessly navigates the emotional roller coaster of marrying a man on the down-low, embarking on a challenging fertility journey, facing the trials of raising a child with behavioral issues, and discovering the shocking truth about a marriage to a man who turned out to be a bigamist.
Written with the intention of healing and offering support to others who find themselves in similar situations, this book serves as a powerful testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the capacity for growth in the face of adversity. S.N. Cole’s honest and vulnerable storytelling creates a safe space for readers to reflect, empathize, and ultimately find solace in the shared struggles and triumphs of her journey.
Through the pages of this book, you will witness the author’s unwavering determination to confront and overcome the various relationship traumas that have shaped her life. With each chapter, S.N. Cole not only offers personal insights but also provides valuable lessons and practical advice that can guide and empower those who are navigating their own paths of healing and recovery.
As you embark on this profound exploration of love, betrayal, resilience, and self-discovery, it is my hope that you find comfort, validation, and inspiration within these pages.
May this book become a beacon of hope for anyone who has experienced relationship traumas, reminding them that they are not alone and that healing and transformation is possible.
With unwavering courage and vulnerability, S.N. Cole shares her story, reminding us all that within the darkest moments lie the seeds of strength, compassion, and the potential for a brighter tomorrow.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
DEDICATION
FOREWORD
PREFACE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
AFTERWORD
CHAPTER ONE
1 Corinthians 13:4-8
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves.
8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
I had this scripture on my wedding invitations to my second husband, Calvin, and looking back, they were just words on a piece of paper. We did not live by them, or we would not be divorced, and I would not refer to him as ‘my second husband’ or ‘my youngest daughters’ father.’ He would still have the title of ‘Husband.’
Do you know what love is, or do you simply think what love is supposed to be from what is portrayed in books and shown on TV? I have always thought I knew what love was because I have loved, I have been loved, and I have been in love.
What I did not know, but realized when I started to write this book and had to concentrate on the events that took place throughout my life, was that I did not know what love was after all because I didn’t have any examples. I had to sum my life up into paragraphs, organize them into chapters and share them in detail. This is my life right here in black and white; the good, the bad, and the ugly. These recounts taught me a lot about myself and what I attracted.
I learned throughout the process that the devil will learn your relationship patterns and send you the same type of person in different bodies to interrupt your purpose in life. What we believe to be love could simply be the work of someone trying to tear us down and derail us from God’s purpose for us.
As an adult, I have always considered myself to be a fairly educated, beautiful, confident, brown-skinned woman with a seemingly ‘okay’ life. Like most people, there were some ups and some downs, but for me, it felt like I had more downs than ups.
Most people that have experienced trauma would probably agree and say the same thing about themselves. My life was not horrible, but it was not the quintessential experience that I would have wanted if I was able to pick my life story.
I was raised in a household with my mother, my father, and eventually my brother, who is seven years older than me.
My parents initially moved to the United States from Barbados, West Indies when I was five years old and for a few years, it was just my parents and me. We lived in Baltimore City in Maryland and I went to school there.
My brother remained in Barbados to finish his schooling and would come to live with us and attended Morgan State University at 16 years old. He was extremely smart. When I first came to the U.S., I was extremely smart as well. I knew a lot of things that the other kids did not know and whenever the teacher asked a question, I was the only one that knew the answer.
As a child, you do not understand how being ‘smart’ was a dreadful thing, but it was. I still had my Caribbean accent and spoke with a lisp whenever I said a word that started or ended with the letter S. The kids teased me and made fun of my accent and my lisp, and they simply did not want to be the friend of a know it all.
They did not want to be MY friend.
It is sad that at such an early age I had to decide whether I wanted to be the smart girl in class or if I wanted friends. At that age, I wanted friends. I wanted to fit in. I started practicing how to speak without my accent and trained myself to hold my teeth together whenever I said a word with an S.
If I could go back to that five-year-old child and give her advice, I would tell her to make decisions that would have the best impact on her life, long term, and that is not having friends if it meant changing yourself. I would tell my young self that being a smart girl will BRING friends.
That is what my brother did. I have always looked up to my big brother and wish I had made better life decisions like him. He told me years later that when he went to Morgan State University, he did not have friends and did not want friends. The small circle of friends my brother did have was intentional. My brother told me people would try to befriend him because they knew he was so smart and could help them with their schoolwork, but my brother did not go to school to be used.
CHAPTER TWO
From as far back as I can remember my household was not as loving as I would have liked. We were far from the families I watched on TV, but then again, there were not too many black families being depicted in a positive light with both parents in the household.
Like typical black families, my mother and father both worked so I learned responsibility at an early age. I was a latch key kid like most kids my age back then. I knew how to get home by myself, let myself in, and not answer the door for anyone nor try to cook anything until my mother got home.
My father was mean and short-tempered and he could blow up at any minute. My mother was submissive, but she could push his buttons. I can guarantee this was not the life she envisioned for herself either. She confirmed that when she told me that if she could go back in time that she would have still had me and my brother, but it wouldn’t have been with my father.
Most kids prayed for their parents to stay together; I prayed for mine to be apart.
Over the next few years, I don’t remember how many times we moved but if I’m not mistaken, I only went to my elementary school for a year, maybe two, and then for the better part of my childhood, I recall living in The Village of Purnell and I went to Dickey Hill Elementary until I graduated from the fifth grade.
My mother and brother attended my graduation from Dickey Hill Elementary, but my father did not. My father did not attend any pivotal moments in my life.
Next, I went to Old Court Middle for sixth grade, which I hated. My mother used to put a jerry curl kit in my hair, and it never turned out right. I looked like I had hair straight from the motherland. Then, she got this bright idea to cut my hair short and I looked like a boy.
I was skinny with glasses with this short afro so you can imagine the bullying and teasing I had to endure in school. You would not know it because I have a pleasant personality, or so I am told, but I can see how your childhood can have such an impact on how you turn out as an adult.
I was happy when we moved, and I did not have to go back to that middle school for the next grade, kids can be mean as hell.
My parents bought a home in Baltimore County, and I went to Woodlawn Middle School for the seventh and eighth grades, then Woodlawn High School for my high school years.
That is when I met my first crush, Thad Hughes.
CHAPTER THREE
I lost my virginity at twelve years old to Thad. He lived up the street from me, so close in fact, that I could see his house from mine, which also meant he could see my house from his. This was not a good thing because it meant that he could see whenever my parents were not home and come over.
I look back on the summer when I met Thad and laugh, I was so green. He told me anything and I believed it. I met Thad while I was outside playing, like kids do, with the first and at the time the only person I met when I moved to the neighborhood, Vohn.
Vohn knocked on my door one day and asked if I could come outside to play, I was so nervous about starting a new school with no friends, so I was happy when we met.
Vohn and I had a lot in common. She was the first person I met, other than my family, that was from another country and we both had long last names that were unique and hard for some people to pronounce.
Vohn was from Thailand, and she spoke English to me and Thad but spoke Thai to her family members. I thought that was so cool because in Barbados, you spoke English, just with an accent.
Vohn’s grandmother lived with them which was also customary in Barbados; for elders to live with their children when they reach a particular age and helped raise the grandchildren and great-grandchildren. We didn’t put our elders in nursing homes or facilities, not to mention I didn’t even know what a nursing home was when I was a child.
While I was growing up in Barbados, my maternal great-grandmother lived with us. It was my great-grandmother, my grandfather, my mother, and my aunts and cousins all in one house.
When we moved to the United States, I was eager to go back to Barbados every other year to play with my cousins and see my grandfather and great-grandmother.
I was told often that I was her favorite, and when she passed away I was heartbroken.
The day I met Thad, Vohn and I found a baby bird and were trying to be a surrogate mother bird. That did not go well; may it rest in peace. Then here comes Thad talking and smiling with that melt-your-heart smile.
I should have run the other way.
Thad had a caramel complexion, smooth skin, and a handsome boyish face. He was quite charming. As Thad walked towards me with his pigeon-toed walk, smiling from ear to ear, it was as if he moved in slow motion to a Barry White song playing in the background.
That was sexy to me back then, pigeon-toed or bow-legged, and if you had both, you were the full package. Add dimples and pretty teeth to that and it was over for me.
While conversing with Thad, some kind of way he managed to invite himself to come to my house the next day. It did not seem like a smart idea and Vohn’s eyes told me it was not; you know how you can talk to your girlfriends with your eyes and facial expressions?
I clearly did not take her eye-vice.
I had no idea why Thad wanted to come to my house but he knew exactly why he was coming and what he wanted.
He was young, dumb, and full of cum, and I was just young and dumb!
That morning, Thad waited for my parents to leave and then he came over. He smiled at me with that gorgeous smile, and I was nervous for a few reasons. The main reason was because it was my first time with a boy in my house and we were alone.
We found ourselves in my bedroom where Thad would start kissing me and that kiss led to me to lose my virginity. I had no idea what I was doing but it seemed Thad did.
At twelve years old, I had no business having sex, but I honestly didn’t know any better. Now, being a parent, I cannot imagine my kids having sex at twelve years old.
Thad and I were in the same grade even though he was older than I was so passing was not a priority to him and he repeated a grade or two. I was even more excited to start the seventh grade in my new school than before because I had a little boyfriend. Or so I believed.
On the first day of school, Thad acted like he did not even know who I was. All summer he was popping by my house whenever he got the ‘need’ and here he was acting like I was a complete stranger. As it turns out, there was a reason for that, and her name was Shawnie. Thad had a damn girlfriend but that did not stop him from still coming to my house after school nor did it stop me from letting him.
In a surprising twist, I found out that Thad not only had one girlfriend, but he had two! He had two girlfriends, in the same school and in the same grade. He was slicker than a can of oil for that, but he would get caught by one girlfriend while walking down the hallway holding hands with the other girlfriend.
It seemed we were all young and dumb.
Fooling around with Thad would cause much chaos in my life for about a year until I just did not see him anymore.
I do not know if his parents sent him away or if he just left on his own, but he did not come back to school, and I did not see him in the neighborhood. That was a hidden blessing because I can only imagine how things would have turned out in my life had I continued to see Thad, not like things turned out any better.
Years later, Thad was murdered.
Someone killed the boy that I had my first sexual encounter with and my first crush and left his body in a park all alone. No matter what, he was still a human being and did not deserve to die that way. His life was cut short and I pray his soul is resting in peace.
CHAPTER FOUR
I was in the eleventh grade when I met my