I didn’t answer him in the hallway. My attorney had warned me not to. “He’s trying to make you react before we walk into court,” she’d said. “The judge will never hear what he says out here—but she’ll notice how you behave in there.” So I sat quietly through the hearing while his attorney interrupted, sighed dramatically, and objected to almost every answer I gave. The judge said nothing. She just kept writing.
Twenty minutes in, his attorney interrupted my testimony again to say I was being “argumentative.” The judge looked up for the first time all morning. “Counsel,” she said evenly, “I’ve been listening to the witness. She has answered every question directly. The interruptions are coming from your table.” The courtroom went still. Even the court reporter paused for half a second before catching up.
When the hearing ended, the judge denied his motion, granted my request for additional financial discovery, and reminded both attorneys that intimidation was not a substitute for evidence. As we gathered our papers, my attorney leaned over and whispered, “Remember what he said about difficult women?” I nodded. She smiled. “Judges don’t mind difficult women. They mind difficult lawyers who mistake confidence for credibility.”
