PARENTAL ALIENATION: Just because YOU were a failure as a spouse doesn’t make ME a failure as a parent.

I was a good mother. I cherished my role.  Even from the very beginning my nurturing abilities were instinctive.  I nursed my children instead of giving them formula.  I prepared their first meals with natural ingredients in my food processor.  I took them on daily outings.  As babies and toddlers, they enjoyed weekly playgroups.  Their medical and dental care was always up-to-date.  They were always bathed and dressed in freshly laundered clothing.  There was nothing they lacked, except for paternal interaction. 

Their father frequently proclaimed that because he worked during the day, he should not have to take care of the children.  He considered them “work”, and announced their activities “boring”.  His life centered on his job, getting high with his friends, spending time on his boat, dalliances with other women and his drug dealings.  His choice of lifestyle greatly conflicted on my family values.  I always believed that family came first.  I always anticipated dinners, activities and outings with my family.  Instead, I had solitary meals with my children.  I had no access to money, so our activities were limited to my creativity.  Everything in my life was controlled by my husband’s rules and temper.  I bore the brunt of his anger, but my sons were victim as well.  They wore the marks of his beating, and endured the scars of his harsh threats.  I was too frightened to call the police, as I felt it was my fault for my inability to stop his attack on my sons, and feared he would next turn his anger on my 2 year old daughter, and surely killed her.  I thought I would be punished for his abuse and lose custody of my children.      

Night after night, I would pray for a way to be rescued.  I found my escape in the form of an inheritance from my great uncle.  Having my own money meant freedom, and I eventually used every penny to leave and hire a divorce attorney.  Life without him meant peace.  My heart palpitations stopped, as did my stress.  I viewed my lifestyle changes and going back to work as a small price to pay for being able to breathe again.  I had no anger toward my ex husband; I merely did not want him as a life partner.      

The fact I filed for divorce meant much more to him than the dissolution of a marriage.  Divorce meant he had failed as a husband and a father.  To view it that dramatically was not unusual for a man who met all the components of narcissistic personality disorder and antisocial personality disorder.  It is not uncommon for two personality disorders to merge, but when they do, it makes for an extremely dangerous individual.  The narcissistic sociopath believes the world revolves around him, is concerned with only his needs, feels societal rules do not apply to him, and has no empathy toward others.  Severing a relationship with a narcissistic sociopath, creates a reaction that is severe and retaliation that is cruel.  They are incredulous that someone would leave someone as wonderful as he believes himself to be, and evokes the need to prove to the world that she is actually the crazy person. 

Despite his years of disinterest in the children, he filed for custody.  Serving as his accomplice was a woman chosen solely for her willingness to obey his directions and provide childcare, so he would not have to alter his lifestyle.  Along with his lawyer who had previous sanctions for unethical practices in custody cases, he was prepared to implement his punishment to the mother of his children for ending the marriage.

It seemed impossible that a judge would actually award custody to this man, yet, by using her unscrupulous tactics, his attorney was able to find a judge who changed the custody.  It did not matter that he had a criminal record, was a drug dealer, and batterer.  He denied everything – even the submitted pictures of his fingerprints on my neck after he strangled me; and appallingly he was awarded sole physical and legal custody.  

I was granted liberal visitation, and did not have to pay child support.  Although heartbroken from the unfairness, I continued to parent successfully, becoming extremely resourceful in juggling my meager salary to provide a loving lifestyle for my children.  I rallied and began to experience many positive changes.  But each happy occurrence was like a thorn in the side of my ex husband, causing him to retaliate in some cruel ways, usually to the detriment of the children.  He did not allow them to bring clothing or toys to my home, he stopped their medical and dental care, and he cut off my daughter’s long hair.  Each joyful event in my life was punctuated with another malicious deed, even a physical attack when I was pregnant with my new husband’s baby.     

But anything he did or said could not erase my children’s memories of the loving mother that used to tuck them into bed each night.  So, my ex had to take more drastic steps.  He filed false criminal charges against me, and brought an ex-parte motion into court on my birthday to halt my visits; resulting in the outcome he desired, lasting more than four childless years, based on a lie.  During that time, he would show court documents to my children and tell them, “Your mother did something very bad”, tainting their memories.

After years of fighting the judicial system, I was reunited with three strangers, who had become teenagers during the lost years.  Although parts of their memories were unblemished, their father had created doubts.  Despite the loving thoughts that may have sustained them during those vacant years, reservations were thrown into their young minds creating confusion of what they really remembered. 

As we slowly began to rebuild a relationship, my ex requested we forget the past and start fresh.  Agreeing for the sake of the children, I should have realized that he had not changed.  He still viewed each positive change in my life as a dagger of his own defeat.  The more the children enjoyed time with me and their younger sister became the trigger my ex needed to build upon the chain of maternal negativity he had been creating for years.  And this time it had to be final.

He used every method of negating anything I did for them, as well as taunting them that I only cared about my youngest daughter and spent all my money on her without revealing she received monthly stipends from her late father.  One by one, they broke off communication with me.  They would never reveal why they were doing so.  Any calls, letters or e-mails were ignored.  My final attempt was an e-mail I sent informing them that their only biological grandparent had passed away.  My sons ignored the news, but my older daughter, who had once written a note to me in crayon stating she wanted to live with me every day of the week and not just weekends, sent a cruel message indicating that she did not feel it was important to go to her grandmother’s funeral because the relationship she had with her “wasn’t pleasant”.  Despite my attempt to inform her that attending a funeral was to support the living, her responses were bitter, unbending, and gloating of her “wonderful life” with her father. 

I can only feel pity for three children whose memories have been replaced by bogus horror stories fed to them since childhood.  I can feel sadness that they have been raised by someone seeking vengeance rather than offering love.  My ex has not changed his ways.  His lifestyle still revolves around himself and his desires.  In contrast, my youngest daughter has enjoyed the benefits of being raised with unselfish love.  She attended private school, summer camp and has traveled to Israel.  Her medical and dental care is up-to-date, and she has embraced her religion.  She has grown up with all the traditional support and values celebrated within wholesome family environments. 

In predicting the future of my alienated children, I fear they will be faced with a myriad of problems and obstacles.  From behaviors I have witnessed, I see years of counseling.  Should they choose to seek answers, it will mean looking at themselves and their past, something that many people are too frightened to learn.  Maybe they will then turn to me for answers.  I hope that the truth will bring some clarity to them and dredge up the memories of the mother who cared for them, and the father who was seldom there.  I hope they will come to their own conclusions; for if they chose to alienate their father, it will be of their own decision, and desire to erase the demon of their past.

Norfolk Probate Court

Traveling east on a secondary road in Dedham, Massachusetts, one is treated to a tree lined street framing beautiful old Victorian homes.  Even at the traffic lights, a sign of a entering a commercial area, the appearance of a court house on the left is majestic.  The probate court house of Norfolk County, architecturally magnificent, stands as a symbol of justice.  Many believe that the building serves as a haven, a sanctuary for those seeking protection from abuse, and end to an unhappy marriage.  Walking into hallowed halls, high ceilings, and marble floors almost demands whispers, voices softly encouraging and comforting those enduring an emotional life transition.  But in contrast, the echoes in these halls are an agonizing amplification of the injustices in the court rooms.  Equally picturesque, the dark wooded courtrooms, with intricate detail, are the mask of what is actually a torture chamber, with judges freely stamping their gavel on decisions with the intensity to crush families. 

The well utilized basement area of the courthouse looks more like a prison holding area, where everyone waits for their cell assignment.  It’s dark and crowded with limited seating.  It’s an agonizing wait as couples are called into the small rooms with the hopes of coming to an agreement to bring in front of a judge and expedite the process.  The first time I stood there, I heard conversation around me.  Once woman was stating she had been coming to that courthouse for 17 years.  I couldn’t imagine the reason.  In my mind, you go to court, arrange the common visitation schedule – every other weekend, one weeknight – and an amount for child support.  Simple, easy and quick.  My naïveté was due to my idealistic belief that people respect what the court stands for; truth and justice.  Lying in court, or perjury, is only committed by seasoned criminals.  Sadly, I was mistaken. 

Prior to going to court, my abusive ex told me he was warned by his family that I was going to accuse him of sexually abusing the children.  To me, that was not only shocking, but ridiculous.  You don’t lie in court.  You don’t make fraudulent accusations.  What I had to relate about my ex’s vile behavior was enough – I didn’t need to fabricate anything.  But he did…..and the court allowed it. 

One court worker was enamored, finding my ex so compelling, she loudly related her empathy to his latest fabricate complaint to another court worker. When I boldly interrupted her, she merely replied, “Well, that’s what he said.”  And I retorted, “Considering the source, you should know it’s a lie.”  There are many positions which demand discretion.  Information is respected privacy and should remain out of earshot to non-staff.  Therefore, how can a court allow their workers to discuss cases, and vocalize their own misguided opinions where anyone can listen?    

Norfolk probate court judges made decisions without hearing the facts from both sides.  How can a Jewish judge believe testimony that children had to go to Hebrew school seven days a week?  How can a judge make a decision on the tearstained photograph of a woman with fingerprints on her neck be anything other than proof of being choked?  How can a judge remove custody from a parent after the same motion was already denied twice?  How can a judge sleep peacefully at night, after destroying the lives of innocent children?

The only thing missing from the pictures of the Norfolk probate courthouse, are the mothers who gathered outside, sobbing after a judge removed her children from her care, merely because her abusive ex displayed the calm demeanor often seen in a sociopath, while she showed emotion at the thought she was going to lose what she loved most.  And the court, offering the same lack of empathy as the narcissistic sociopath, with unconscionable ruling, did as she feared most.

The probate court has since moved to an industrial area in an antiseptic brick building.  Have the demons that once lived in the imposing structure followed along?  Well, that’s not my story to write.  By the time I had to utilize the services there, I was much more savvy in the ways of the court.  I did not need an attorney, because I could represent myself.  I was no longer intimidated by the unethical attorney I faced, and found ways to get around her objections; by testifying to evidence she was afraid to allow me to submit, for it proved the trail of injustices allowed in my case.  I was finally able to stand up and tell the judge I refused anymore abuse by my ex, his attorney and the Norfolk Probate court. And after years of battle, my case was closed, and I felt as if I had won.  I did not win the deserved custody, as my children were almost grown, but I won the freedom from my abusive ex, and the freedom of facing false accusations in that court. 

But in attaining freedom, and access to children gave my ex carte blanche to do whatever he desired; to manipulate, to degrade and to destroy, and control his children – their thoughts and deeds, in the way he wanted.  And that’s what he desired most….his own freedom to continue his abuse away from the eyes of those who judge….because someday he knew, they may not be judging in his favor.  

An Uncanny Resemblance

When I became a mother, my diligence to my son’s daily care was just as significant as the extras I provided.  My innate awareness grew from my intense love which meant putting his needs before my own.  From my first days of motherhood, I thought of making each day special and began with daily walks in the fresh air.  As years went by, I incorporated activities for my three children by daily outings of visits to parks and playgrounds or playing in the leaves and or snow in our yard.  I was a mom who happily endured the cold to create snowmen even if the children opted to gleefully watch from the warmth of the house.  Their happiness was my happiness.   

During my separation from their father, I maintained our lifestyle.  My children barely reacted as they were used to his lengthy absences.  However, my routine had changed and sometimes I utilized the help of a babysitter, for a job interview or work, and occasional socializing, which I intended to keep from my children.  But sometimes when you least expect it….    

…To digress to a summer dinner at my house with several friends, and an unexpected addition of someone new, young and very cute. Undeniable mutual attraction, including my older son captivated by this kind and gentle man enthusiastically playing catch  in the yard, something never experienced with his own father. The next month, I reconciled with my ex, and informed my son his father was moving home.  With tears in his eyes, he expressed his preference for this new man instead of his father, apparently favoring a willing and doting “father figure” rather than his own, sensing his indifference and infrequent appearances in the family home. 

But, a divorce was inevitable, and I steadfastly maintained propriety, keeping my social life away from my home.  It was important for my children to be excluded from this, yet it served as an important process in my own healing as I began to discover men who did not believe the world centered around them. 

But, my ex rushed the children to his girlfriend’s house, calling her fiancé and her teenaged daughters “stepsisters”.  Although he had been dating her during our marriage, she was a stranger to my children; yet they were forced to sleep at her house, and share a bedroom with a stranger.    

Never addressed was how these young teenagers reacted to the abrupt intrusion in their lives.  After all, without preparation or introduction, the day after their father moved out, their mother brought an outsider into her home and bed.   Recently I learned that this event stayed with these girls for years, as they expressed their disdain with a comment, “(Mom) never told us about moving (him) into the house.”  I was appalled.     

In 1996, the guardian ad litem suggested my children live with this woman without investigation.  She relied solely on what my ex told her, and never sought to substantiate the information by anyone else, signing her name on a report advising my children live with a woman who clearly thought only of herself, and acted in a way that was anything but motherly. 

Who takes the blame for this?  The charismatic sociopath who masterminded everything, much in the way Charles Manson choreographed the most horrific murders in history?  Or do we punish the puppets?  The ones who obeyed either in stupidity and selfishness as the girlfriend; or with blindness, ignoring the authority they were given yet overlooked their responsibility?  And a huge question still stands of why would someone disregard the job they were paid to do when the lives of three innocent children were at stake? 

The lost children of the Manson family were troubled individuals, looking for acceptance, much in the way of my ex’s girlfriend.  Believing they found someone so special, they would do his bidding without thinking of the legal or moral ramifications.  But one would trust that an educated woman would not routinely allow herself to be charmed enough to ignore the standards of a GAL.  Perhaps her husband, the former judge, isn’t keeping up his end of the bargain and she is seeking a replacement albeit in fantasy?  Still working for the courts, she is guided by that same demon methodically destroying other children, the same way she devastated the lives of my three beautiful children.  

Imagine how many lives would have been saved if the Manson family members refused to do his bidding.  Imagine what it would have been like if the GAL laughed at the allegations of a narcissistic sociopath and did her job correctly.  Her hands would have been clean.  The girlfriend would have been abandoned, as she no longer served her purpose, but her daughters would have been spared of the knowledge that their mother was uncaring and promiscuous. 

Still, I fear my children would not have been reprieved.  Like Charlie, my ex had many resources to accomplish his deed which has been proved over the years.  I fear the fate of my oldest children was tragically sealed on the day I recited my marriage vows.