Divorce can be amicable or ugly, and what happens to the children can last a lifetime.
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The names in this article have been changed to protect the identities of those involved.
I can’t say for sure whether more damage was caused during our childhood by your terrifying midnight arguments and the daytime cold war, or during our adolescence and young adulthood while the two of you waged legal bloodshed and embarked on campaigns of moral destruction. I often wonder when you decided you hated Terry. After having one child? Two? Three?
Did you ever really love each other at all?
All I can affirm is, because of your patterns of behavior over a period of decades, one of us is psychologically broken, another is a shell of the person she should have been, and I—the most capable survivor—haven’t a single memory of my parents sharing a happy moment together. I do remember the relief I felt upon hearing the two of you would be separating. I remember the eagerness and anticipation of a peaceful household. I remember looking forward to finally inviting friends over after a decade of excuses designed to shield my social life from the maelstrom of my family dynamics. I remember hoping my older sister would heal; sharing a wall with our parents’ bedroom had forced upon her a battleground as a soundtrack to her youth. She eventually rarely talked anymore, except in whispers to herself, and was barely approachable due to a stewing and unstable temper.
This would finally all end, thanks to a separation.
But, it didn’t.
Through your divorce, the antagonism simply metamorphosized; it diminished in volume, but not in intensity.
****
After your separation, any relationship I had with Terry when we all lived together would now have to be hidden from you, Chris. I was fourteen years-old, and any communication with my excommunicated parent would be met with such passive aggression that phone calls, meetings, and trips to donut shops would be surreptitious at best, and always anxiety-ridden.
“Where were you?” you would ask.
“Who was that on the phone?”
“Whose was in that car?”
You were relentless.
“No one.” I would answer occasionally, attempting with futility to deflect the question.
“If you only knew the real Terry.” You would say.
You would follow with stories of theft, of lying, of withholding money from us children.
Shamefully, eventually worn down, I believed you.
Even after Terry was expelled from the house, even our weekly two-hour visits to that rent-subsidized one-bedroom apartment—furnished with third-hand office furniture and reeking of propane leaking from old stovepipes— also ended.
Having to explain and disguise our whereabouts to you proved too much for three teenagers who hadn’t learned the value of a strong parental relationship to begin with.
Your passive aggression as you eavesdropped on phone calls, or as you stood next to us while we waited for Terry to pick us up for those one hundred and twenty minute visits: your expression glowering, your elbows at our ribs, your arms crossed in defiance and disapproval.
I remember the shame I felt as I waved at Terry from the other end of the courthouse hallway.
“Can I go say hello?” I asked.
“I’d rather you stay here, please.” you said.
I hadn’t the strength to defy you, nor the willingness to disobey you in front of Grandma, who you had brought along as another member of your army of emotional support.
Terry stood alone.
****
It was only after I began living on my own that understood the scope of the damage.
Lisa, a big sister who took me to the movie theatre and the amusement park and stayed awake with me as we watched horror movies on the basement television when we were young, was now irreparably damaged. Her whispers, and her violent temper, and her long absences from home, we now understood to be symptoms of her schizophrenia. It is an illness which may not be caused by stress, but certainly exacerbated by it. Sharing a wall with warring parents for ten or more years will do that to a person.
She, ironically, now lives in a rent-subsidized one bedroom apartment with second-hand furniture. Fortunately, her heating is electric, so she is spared that horrible smell of propane.
Heather, my baby sister, also lives alone. After a parade of bad relationships she no longer reaches out. She goes to work, goes to the gym, and then goes home. Her home is 3,000 miles away.
She is an expert avoidist.
I think both my sisters have learned this pattern of isolation following childhoods which had so few periods of peace. Now, they’ve had enough . . . they just want quiet.
They no longer call you or Terry very much, if at all.
They just don’t want to hear it anymore.
You see, Chris, what is even more heartsickening than the hatred for Terry you so boastfully displayed twenty years ago, is how you harbor that same resentment towards Terry today.
You are still searching for victory; a clean sweep of your children’s approval and support.
But, you see, Chris, none of that is forthcoming.
In our adulthood, we have finally—belatedly—found the strength to ask questions of Terry. We have concluded on our own that there is enough shared blame.
All we see now is one parent who has forgiven, despite a shitty apartment and being emotionally and physically isolated from my sisters and me for years.
Despite our depressions and our psychological breaks and our failed relationships, we have persevered in becoming free-thinkers.
Me? After a divorce, I found love again. And support.
I spend my days with a woman whose childhood was not too different from my own.
We disagree, but never in front of our young children. We vowed to each other bedtime would be a time of hugs and stuffed animals and quiet songs . . . and then a time of silence while they slept.
Our children will wake up to group hugs with their mother and father. They will witness parental disagreement, but those will be far outweighed by displays of affection and declarations of love.
As for you, Chris, despite my repeated pleas for you to heal, to forget the past, and at the very least to be civil with Terry, you refuse.
All those articles I’ve sent, all those videos, and all I’ve written on the topic, being proven right is still what is most important to you.
You insist on hosting family suppers to which Terry is not invited. You refuse invitations to gatherings if Terry is included, and you still can be seen sneering in front of my children when they speak of their other grandparent.
That ends today.
There will be no more invitations sent to you without your acceptance of Terry in our home as well.
There will be no more attendance of family dinners while I make excuses to my children about Terry’s whereabouts.
Your three children spent the first decade-and-a-half of their lives shielding your animosity and hatred for Terry towards from our friends.
My shield is cracked.
The only thing which is left to protect me and my children is distance . . . or your admission that this decades long war is over.
****
Suggested reading for divorcing parents:
- Two scarred children and the shattering testimony that shows how divorce can damage lives forever.
- Research Highlights:Caught in the Middle: Protecting the Children of High-Conflict Divorce, Carla B. Garrity and Mitchell A. Baris. New York: Lexington Books, 1994.
- Advice for Parents Who are Divorcing
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Photo: mark hoynes via Flickr
Family Constellations, as developed by Bert Hellinger, a German psychotherapist and philosopher, have been extremely helpful in identifying unconscious patterns within families, bringing those patterns to awareness and making changes within the family.
As a psychotherapist who uses a variety of approaches, including family constellations, I have seen great healing and change in using this experiential approach. The modality is rapidly growing in the United States — being extremely popular in Europe, Russia and Latin America — and we have a well-established conference, this year scheduled Nov. 12-15 in San Diego. Information here: http://constellateus.com/conference2015
Just read this. My parents had a very ugly separation and then divorce (my father left out of nowhere from a seemingly-perfect marriage–in truth, he’d been unhappy and cheating on my mother for years) that dragged on from when I was 14 and my little brother was 7 to today (I’m 21 and he’s 13). I was out of the house and in college by the time I was 16, partly to escape all their bullshit and using me as a messenger. My brother still has visitation with my father. He… doesn’t make for a good model of the man… Read more »
*you and your parents’ mutual desire to be better parents than your own had been… oh, you know what I mean <3
Dear Anonymous, Just curious if you have ever heard of Family Constellations work, by Bert Hellinger? It’s the only thing I’ve ever found that helped me get through my parents’ bitter divorce, after 23+ years. I noticed patterns in what you said about your parents tumultuous upbringings mirroring your own, Chris’ decision to exclude Terry and your decision to exclude Chris, and you and your parents mutual desire be better for their kids than their parents had been for them. Go ahead and Google it and maybe watch some videos… these patterns are usually a lot older in our families… Read more »
Wonderful piece. I must admit I find the number of comments comforting as well. As the child of a bitter divorce I always thought my brother and I were the only ones to know this kind of experience. Thanks for sharing your story.
Hi JLS, That is really THE question. Whether “staying together for the benefit of the children” has any merit. I’m sure the quiet tension is taking some toll on the kids, but is that worse than being dropped off and driven back and forth between mom’s and dad’s houses? Not sure. If EVER (zoiks!) my spouse cheated on me, I would have a HORRIBLE time getting over it. But I think I would be able to forgive, because the image of walking my little guys to the car with their overnight bags every week to see their mom would be… Read more »
I only hear one side of the story, but I don’t think she has any intention of forgiving him at this point. He is trying to be repentant on the surface, but he is still in love with the other woman, and even reaches out to her on occasion, despite the fact that the affair ended 3 years ago. As I said, he has chosen to stay for the child (his wife threatened to do everything in her power to separate him from his daughter if he left), and continues to do so because he believes it is the best… Read more »
I find this article interesting and sad, but I’m curious about something: would it have been just as bad to deal with parents who quietly hated each other, or would that have been bearable as long as the arguing was kept away from the children? I ask because I have a friend who has chosen to stay in his marriage for his daughter, despite the fact that his wife tells him she will never love or trust him again (he had an affair) and that she only stays because she has nowhere else to go. He thinks that, as long… Read more »
Thanks for writing this. My parents divorced when I was ten. I was well into my twenties before I stopped having a panic attack every time I heard people arguing in another room.
Even 40 years later, the emotional chaos I lived in both before and after the divorce continues to impact my life and relationships.
Wow.
Thanks for the comment, SH.
As an adult, I also realize how sensitive I am to noise in general. I wonder if my childhood has anything to do with it? I’ve never thought about that before.
The fact that you understand that you were affected by your parents’ relationship already puts you ahead of many children who grew up under those circumstances….hang in there.
I don’t speak to either of my parents and haven’t for years (decades, in the case of the noncustodial parent). I’m really happier that way. I don’t remember them interacting at all in front of me, positive or negative–I was only three when they divorced–and I will say that they rarely ever talked smack about each other directly to my face, though my stepmother (both my parents remarried) and my mother had no trouble talking smack about each OTHER to my face…I’m glad they divorced when I was so young, because my childhood and adolescence would probably have been even… Read more »
Thanks, Lisa.
It interesting, the point you make about your mother and step-mother. It really is amazing how adults don’t understand how sensitive children are.
You mention you haven’t spoken to your non-custodial parent for decades. Do you ever get curious about what became of them?
Thanks for writing this. We all need to heal and be better people.
Thanks, DSF. Agreed
Thank you for sharing your story. As an expert avoidist for the past 20 years, it’s good to read pieces like this, to help me decode my feelings now that I’m more capable of doing so. I had a similar experience as a child, though the circumstances were different and I chose to live with the parent who wasn’t filled with hatred. I am eternally grateful that that option was possible for me. I am 37 and unmarried, by choice. I am beginning to feel like I am capable of sharing my life with someone, possibly having children, but it… Read more »
Hi Ang,
You sound a LOT like one of my siblings. Although you seem MILES ahead as far as your personal healing and acceptance.
I absolutely agree that growing up in that kind of storm made me absolutely understand what I DON’T want for my children.
Ironically, my parents also grew up in tumultuous households, and it didn’t seem to help them. Perhaps the need to prove to their parents their ability to be better parents made them rush into the whole thing?
I don’ think I’ll ever know the answer to that.
I loved how the use of names it is true it didn’t matter which was your father or mother. Your point was strong and clear. Draw a line bitterness is way too time consuming.
Thank you, Lisa!
Congratulations on speaking out. You are doing right by your kids — I hope you feel amazing about that. It can be a hard thing when it was never modeled for you by your own parents. You might enjoy this post I wrote a while ago hating one’s ex more than loving their kids, and how to avoid doing so. Either way, thanks for sharing your story.
http://www.benstich.com/effects-of-divorce-on-children-of-divorce/
Thanks, Ben!
Articles like this are really helpful for kids of a bitter divorce. Unfortunately – and all too often – getting your PARENTS to read them is an uphill battle. As Chris said to me so often : “Yeah, but if you only knew the truth….”
This sounds like my boyfriend’s parents. One is unwilling to move on and holds onto the bitterness. People can be such horrible human beings during a divorce. When my parents were divorcing my father took me aside and told me I should live with him because I was supposed to be an abortion and my mom didn’t really love me. He’d threaten to come take me (when he felt it would give him the upper hand). There were no custody arrangements and he could see me whenever he wanted; he just had to call and arrange it. My mother never… Read more »
” I was supposed to be an abortion and my mom didn’t really love me.”…sheesh…do you ever wonder what happens to a person during their life to make them believe that saying sort of thing is acceptable? I eventually – and quite by accident – discovered some facts about Chris’s upbringing which helped me understand the behavior. It does not excuse it, but it does make it somewhat easier to tolerate. That’s also part of the conundrum of growing up in this kind of atmosphere: it eventually shapes who you are and how you treat others, but, at some point,… Read more »
Were the pseudonyms “Terry” and “Chris” deliberately chosen in order to disguise the genders of the parties?
Does it matter?
Yes.
Yes. Those names were specifically chosen to disguise the genders. It’s a fair question.
I did that so the discussion did not degenerate into: “Great, someone else blaming everything on their mother.” or “See? Another abusive man wrecks his kids.”
I really wanted divorced parents, and their children, to hopefully recognize themselves in this piece. Even more so, I would hope to help prevent the deterioration of another divorce proceeding and encourage some healing within those of us who have witnessed one.
I appreciate your readership.
Oh, let me help you….The one in the sh*tty apartment with 2 hours weekly visitation would be signified as the male.
That reminds me of a letter that I wrote to my mother. (Not about divorce)
She tried everything she could to get me back under control. None of her tricks worked, and after about a year of no contact I slowly started opening channels of communication.
She will never admit that she did anything wrong; in her mind she was “over protective”. However she has stopped all of her abusive behaviours, and reduced her drinking (around me). Now we have a relationship that is mostly positive.
She has learned that she cannot get away with it.
Hey Mike,
Kudos. That was always the most frustrating aspect for me: the refusal to even entertain the idea of any wrong-doing.
In my family there are those who have learned they can’t get away with it…but the passive aggressive looks and sly comments still pop up.