When You Learn Your Lawyer Is Not Your Advocate, But Their Own and You Just Don't Matter

As humans, our instinct would have us believe that when we are at our lowest, there would be people to help you. We have friends, family and circles of loved ones and acquaintances. Thanks to 'social media', we now read and see stories nearly every day of people coming to the aid of complete strangers in all kinds of difficult situations to help others. It's an instinctual action. We make others feel good and in return, we feel good. It's one of the traits separating us from most other animals. Acts of compassion. A simple touch. The ability to recognize right from wrong. Donating to various causes and charities. If you're fortunate enough to have a famous name, using it for the good of all. Not simply the good of you. These acts of goodness and kindness bring out the best in us. Bring out what we aspire to be. What we try and teach our children.

And then, there are Separation and Divorce lawyers.

'Divorce/Separation Lawyers' may be the greatest sales people and actors among us. You have a personal issue that requires representation and for a $250.00 consultation, they'll meet you. You are never at your best arriving there because of why you're going there. It's a low point. An ending. A breakup you may or may not want. And even if you want it, it's still a mournful loss. It's like a death. And you are there to give a eulogy on the death of your relationship. You're on edge. Defensive. Scared even. Scared of the unknown. Scared of what you may be told. As soon as you arrive though, you're impressed. Beautifully and tastefully decorated law offices. Everything down to the magazines to read while you wait is perfectly placed. Some even offer bottled water or coffee. Interesting and colorful wall-art. An attractive young woman at the front desk greeting you with just enough kindness and eye contact to make you think "I'm okay here". You need to see a friendly face against the emotional backdrop of why your there and that receptionist is it. And even while you wait, even with all of this tapestry, you feel nervous and anxious. Why? Because you know deep in your heart who and what lawyers are. Even if you are like me and never had to use one.

Until now.

We've all heard the stories and the reputations preceding them. 'Wesals'. 'Used Car Salesmen/Women. 'Scumbags', 'Users'. 'Manipulators'. 'Leeches'. But in your heart of hearts, you want to believe you'll find the one with a heart. You want to find the exception. Because you are about to tell them that at least in part, you failed. It's part consultation and part confession. Like exposing a gaping wound. Your relationship or marriage is ending or has ended and you are raw and vulnerable. Depressed and angry and sad and bitter and confused and overwhelmed. That investment, both emotionally, spiritually and financially that you placed so much on is over. It didn't pan out as you had hoped or prayed it would. And with that, everything is in upheaval. Your life. Your finances. Your home. Your dogs......Your child....

When you are led to enter the office to find a lawyer sitting behind their power desk, you aren't there to tell them about your successes. Not the good times in your life or even the good times you had with your spouse, once upon a time. You're there to talk about the end and how it all came crashing down. And you have to encompass eighteen years of life and that relationship (in my case) into one hour all the while knowing that somewhere behind you is a clock for your new friend to keep an eye on. And that clock is ticking.

Most law offices essentially all look the same. At least the few I went too. A large desk with some family pictures for decoration. A huge law diploma from 'Name Your University' stares at you on the wall. A gaggle of law books holding the keys and answers as to what's legal and what isn't. Maybe some sports memorabilia - usually something signed by a local professional athlete who at one time may have sat in the very chair you now occupy. A box of tissues at the ready for your use. Every space is meticulously spoken for and presented. Like a movie set, except this is as real as it gets for you. After some basic and obligatory pleasantries out of the way, you begin.They listen to your tale of woe and sadness. In return, they display all of the facial recognition that you seek. Sympathy. Empathy. Outrage. Looks of shock when you give your version of betrayal and what happened and why. They convince you that no one can represent you like they can. They tear when you tear. The smile when you smile and they laugh when you laugh. One female lawyer tapped my hand and gently squeezed hers in mine in solidarity and unity. In understanding. Her eyes melting into mine as those eyes tell you "I hear you. I feel you. And I'm here FOR you". It's all so routine and sterile for them and all so naked and personal for you. The worse off you are, the better they feel and look. The larger they seem. They seem to cradle you and insulate you. They not only want to be your attorney, but they want to be your friend. Your confiant.

They begin their pitch by rattling off cases, references, their own biographies and how you will not only benefit by their association with you, but will win. "Win what?", you wonder. How can there be a winner in any of this? But that's the human question. And their brilliance is that while you are giving your testimony, they are adding up the fees and keeping an eye on that clock for the next sad story at the top of the next hour. It's a talent and a skill that belongs more on a Broadway stage or a movie set than it does meeting people at their lowest and most desperate. But that's what makes divorce and separation lawyers so low, so vile, so insidious and so brilliant.

In my case, I was never legally married, but had 18 years of a live-in relationship with a woman in a state with no 'Common Law' statutes. Further, because we weren't married, all we had to do was agree to custody and a buyout of our house. She would be moving. Pretty basic and cut and dry, so I was told and promised. There was the obligatory $5,000.00 retainer fee to be paid immediately and then monthly bills based off of the hourly of my attorney and her paralegal. I was told I'd be looking at about $10,000.00 for the whole sordid experience. They knew not only from my testimony, but my financials of which I had to produce for child custody numbers that I lived hand to mouth. I wasn't independently wealthy. I was simply 'Middle Class'. I had to trust my attorney. For that was what I had assumed I should do. What I needed to do. What I had to do. What she told me to do. She was representing me. She was looking out for my interests. In retrospect and with the benefit of some hindsight behind me, the only question I can ask myself is: "How naive and stupid could I have been?"

For the first few months, things moved at a snail's pace, but the bills were still large. After my $5,000 retainer was swallowed up in June, 2019, July saw a bill due of $2,779.50. August, $493.00. September, $1,843.00 October $1,589.00.

I never felt completely in sync with my counsel, but I didn't think I could afford to leave her and go through the whole process again. I had wanted a more aggressive stance on our house as I had paid most, if not all of the major monthly payments and upkeep. When we had signed for the house, she hadn't signed the mortgage papers as I had thought, but only signed the 'Title' papers. Meaning that legally she was entitled to a portion of the house but not legally obligated to be responsible for anything to do with the house. More trust issues. It wasn't that I didn't trust. It was that I did.

In retrospect, a client like me is perfect for a lawyer like the one I had. I didn't feel I had any other options but her. As mentioned, I was limited in resources. I couldn't simply say "I'll get another attorney and another and another until I get the service I feel I need". Money isn't everything. But it offers freedom and it offers options. And you only have as many options and freedom as you do money. The moment, the chip on my debit card hit her card credit machine, I was not only in, but I was stuck and powerless.

Not being able to reach a settlement, we had all agreed to go to mediation. I came up early on with a strategy which I thought was at the very least compelling and should have been included in the totality of the argument in trying to negotiate a settlement. My counsel never said "yes" or "no" and never seemed to be interested in my view or understand it. In meetings when we had gone over the 'bullet-points' I had wanted, it was if she was reading them, but not absorbing them. But I still stubbornly thought "she knows best". After all, she's the attorney. She knows more than I. She's more experienced than I. This is what she does.

We had gotten an earlier date than originally thought for a mediation meeting and all of a sudden, we had one week to prepare. We went in on the day with a surprise appearance from one of my lawyer's paralegals whom I had not expected to see with both arms carrying paperwork, bills and anything else the Mediator would or may have wanted to see going back over a decade. By comparison, my ex's lawyer arrived with a to-go cup of coffee. Five hours later we had a settlement. But I never thought and still don't think it was a great settlement. I kept being told that if we went to trial that my legal fees would sky-rocket and that my ex would probably receive a higher percentage of the house she had agreed too. But we'll never know. My counsel knew of my financial situation. My savings had been attacked each month relentlessly with increased bills for their work. I never knew how much the bill would be nor were my representatives inclined to tell me what the bill would end up being for each individual month until it arrived. They would e-mail me the bill and then automatically deduct the due money from my account + 2% for the credit card fee.

I felt at times during that mediation that I was fighting alone and didn't feel as if I was being listened too. An example would be when my ex was apparently getting frustrated with the speed and process of the final mediation negotiations and threatened to try and put in a motion to move herself and our son back to her home state permanently. She did this even though her lawyer had told her the last time she had tried the same tactic that this would not be permitted by a judge. My lawyer barely moved while I provided an impassioned defense for myself. One time, I had an appointment with my lawyer for a meeting and she not only arrived late, but in gym clothes having forgotten about our meeting and had just come back from a workout at her gym. It really made me question how important my case was to her. In the mediation, my lawyer, newly pregnant, seemed as sluggish, bored and detached as I was alert, animated and angry at some of the false accusations and allegations being levied against me and my character. But when it was all over, I did keep the house and the final stage of our breakup - her moving out - had been agreed too.

I was now able to move on. Or so I thought.

Afterwards, I hadn't heard much from my lawyer with the exception of the occasional signing for things like the 'Deed', the final custody agreement and other things needing my signature. I live only a couple of miles away from her office, so it was an easy and quick ride on short notice. I knew the final bill would be higher. There had been more work done. But nothing could have prepared me for the shock and ultimate betrayal of what that bill read when it arrived in my 'Inbox', early on a Sunday night .

November, 2019: $7,297.50.

I had seen the e-mail come in through my phone as I was preparing to shop for a mattress to replace the one that had left along with my ex. I remember thinking that if I stared at the number long enough, my brain would somehow recognize it's mistake and bring the numbers down to the $3,ooo-$3,500.00 number I thought it would be. But this? This was a volcano. A nuclear meltdown. How the hell was I supposed to pay this?

As I was absorbing what this meant, I started to get angry. then furious to the point of my face feeling like it was hot. I had to cool down. I had traded a couple of quick e-mails with the Office Manager who went in on a Sunday night to process her firm's bills. I had to wait until the following day to go in and see how this could have happened. She said we'd "work something out".

My first question the following day when I went to the office was: "We were talking $10,000.00 total! And the reply was "Well, we didn't know we were going to mediation. And we don't put in the bills until the end of the month and we really worked hard for you and avoided trial which would have been more expensive". The reality was that we knew we were going to Mediation months ago. It was like that scene in the movie "My Cousin Vinny" where Joe Pesci is explaining to his nephew and the nephew's friend "There's no way this isn't going to trial". And I knew months ago because we discussed that there was no way that this wasn't going to Mediation.

My second point was that because they knew about my financial situation down to the penny, it was their obligation to let me know that we were getting into deeper financial waters than I could swim. Just out of basic decency and courtesy. They had every pay stub. They knew the totals of the final settlement amount I had to pay to keep the house (and by extension my son in his high school). They knew what that did to me financially. The new child support payments I was now going to be paying every month and yet, somehow I was not entitled to know how much this was costing me until I received the bill. Instead of throwing me a life jacket to save me which would have been transparency, in their silence tied a brick on my ankle to watch me drown. No one had the sense to give me the option of backing out of their service which I would have done because I never buy what I can't afford. If I knew I would be looking at $5,000.00 for the month, let alone $7,300.00, I would have thanked them for their help, gone to Mediation on my own and took my chances there. Quite frankly, I felt I defended myself with more passion than they did anyway. Instead, in their world it was completely fine and within ethical lines to charge me out of whatever financial stability I had left without giving me the option of declining further representation because I simply couldn't afford it. And they knew it.

The following day, I drove to the office to the discussion or "showdown". Now that our mediation was over, the smiles evaporated. The knowing looks. The encouragement. The friendship and bonding. Now this was business. And dirty business. This was no longer a client relationship. I had $3,000.00 that I could offer. It was all I had. It was earmarked for something else, but I told them, they could have it. But that was it. The Office Manager said "well, this is what's remaining and you can pay it off in five months for $860.00 per month." I said "You know what's coming and you know what's been going out. You've been paid every penny until now, but this is breaking me. I don't have $860 per month to spend and you know it." After ten minutes of this back and forth, my lawyer who was in the very next room through all of this came out and with an icy demeanor, proceeded to tell me all of the things she did. She told me how we avoided trial. It was all over. This wasn't a lot of money. Unfortunately, she wasn't hearing me. This lawyer told me of "procedures" they have for people who don't pay. She suggested putting myself into permanent debt by putting the remaining bill on a credit card. She told me to go to family or a "third party" and make my problem their problem. But the one thing she or any of her office staff never told me was how expensive and how much this was going to be. I had thirty days to pay the remaining $4,297.50 and it didn't matter to her if I had to steal it, kill someone or rob a bank. So long as she was paid and the money wasn't traceable. Her client be damned.

My advocate didn't give an iota of concern or consideration of how this could affect my future. My son's future. Like any sleazy attorney, she deflected my argument with veiled threats. The reality is that she didn't care the day she met me and didn't care now. Like any good prostitute, her job was over. Except prostitutes are honest about what they do. It's a very open relationship for the time you're with them. A fee is negotiated ahead of time, she does her job and hopefully both parties leave satisfied. So even if she didn't give me the courtesy of some notice of where my bill was headed, that didn't matter. Financial ruin didn't matter. This archaic way of billing didn't matter. Regardless of the cost. What mattered was her. A classic narcissist. A textbook lawyer.

Outside of hospitals and their billing system, it is astounding to me that anyone would knowingly pay for a service that they don't know what they are going to be charged with. It's the same crooked system for both fields. Medical and law. And lawyers are at the root of both. A scam billing system which should be illegal. If you buy a car, you know the price. Same with furniture, a flight, Disney World or a ball game. Knowing the price makes you an educated consumer. You can either accept or refuse. By doing that, you also set the fair-market value for those services. If you can't afford that service, you can bow out if it gets too expensive. You know your limits. But you as the consumer have the right to know before the bill comes. Not after. Or at least you should have the right to know. That is how a fair-market system is supposed to work. But this lawyer did none of that nor do lawyers want any of that. What she did, was deliberately keep me in the dark about my rates all the while knowing where they were headed with absolutely no consideration for me as the human being. The client. The one they were supposed to be defending and protecting. If I ever felt betrayed by my ex, I could understand that. It was a breakup and things get said and done in the heat of all of those emotions. There's history there. Not here. This was a mugging. This was the ultimate betrayal. This excuse of not knowing the bill totals by the end of the month is lame at best and blatantly false at worst. This was an experienced group of people who knew how billing works, the fees involved and how quickly they can rise. Everybody knew but me. And everyone in your firm will know but you.

Lawyers learn more about their clients in a matter of months than their partners or even circle of loved ones often learn in a matter of decades. They take that knowledge and manipulate and use it against you. Playing the game of "We didn't know" was as disingenuous as the initial meeting turned out to be. Even a lawyer friend of mine up North was stunned at the final total of the last bill noting that "common courtesy and sense" would have at least invited a discussion of finances if for no other reason to avoid what happened.

Therein lies the scam. The deceit and the betrayal. Therein lies the reason why lawyers are so vilified and despised in any corner of the country. They've earned their distinction. They've earned their reputation. It isn't a new recognition. I always knew it, but never felt it. It took nearly 50 years of life. But now I know it, because I've felt it's sting. And I write this so you will know it too. You can't trust. You can't reveal. You need to stay vigilant because your ally today is your foe tomorrow. You matter to your lawyer as much as I did to mine. Which means, you don't. You're a cash cow with a blank face and nothing more. Only you are going to be your own advocate. Your best advocate. Learn from my mistakes. Be smarter than I was.

Be better than I was.