
It might not really be betrayal, but that’s the feeling.
Let’s pretend you literally just about died bringing each of them into the world, you sacrificed decades of your life, education, career, stability, and sanity to raise them, and now…now it gets mean.
Your ex is a charming fella—useless, yet charming. He has a little girlfriend—15 years younger than he is, no kids, no commitments—who he plays with all of the time. They are super cute together. Your kids say, “Dad seems really happy.” And there are simply no words for what you are thinking. It’s too much.
And this same man refused to pay child support for 12 months, until you got him in the court room. This is for three children. His children. He now pays it, when he wants to…and when he’s not traveling with his girlfriend.
And still, the kids chat with him. Still, they see him on occasion. One sees him a lot, in fact. They are close friends, she says.
And this is the father who refuses to pay for one cent of her college, who will not help her get into a car, who would not pay child support for her last year at home before college. And they are close friends?? What the actual fuck?
Are children so desperate for a parent that it totally disables their ability to discern BS from authenticity? I thought I had smart kids. I know I have smart kids. They are amazing. So WTF?
Why do I feel betrayed? I am human. I am hurting. I don’t understand how someone gets away with abusing people, and still have the privilege of being with them. Why do we allow this?
It totally sucks watching my kids get pulled into his narcissistic games. There is nothing I can do about it. He gave me full custody of them and put up no fight at all. But his money…that is a different story. Not one penny came my way of his own accord.
I think I feel betrayed because:
- If I had a friend who was getting screwed over by another friend, I would not play with the mean friend. Plain and simple. You cannot support that kind of behavior with attention and live with yourself.
- If I had a friend who had done everything in her power to facilitate my life and make it as good as possible, no matter what, I would have her back.
- If I had a friend who was even a little lame sometimes, but someone was hurting her and I had the opportunity to talk to the asshole who was hurting her, I would. And it wouldn’t be pretty.
But that’s not how it goes. Children want a dad. What they will never have is a dad, though. If they are lucky, they will be able to find a way to live with the illusion of his friendship, because there is nothing real about it.
Dads show up for their kids. Dads don’t put their mothers through hell just because they can, even hurting the kids, themselves. When kids live with their mom 24/7, there is no way NOT to affect the children when you blow her life up on a regular basis.
Dads who want to be fathers have every opportunity to do so. I remember numerous occasions when I would talk to my then-husband about taking the girls out for a little date, teaching our son how to shoot hoops, or just being the energy behind any interaction.
He didn’t listen then. And he still doesn’t do that today. And they still talk to him and are entertained by his charming sense of humor.
It’s really sickening to me. Because there is no way this can end well.
Parenting is so hard. I’ve never had a real partner, so I cannot speak for those lucky people. But doing it alone is just plain hard. Especially when you haven’t slept for years and years and you know that if something goes south, you are the one who gets the call. Because you are the only who answers the damn phone.
But, I am glad they call. I am glad they know I have their back, no matter what. I will forever be there for my kids, even when it hurts like crazy. I will be there even when I feel their actions are betrayal, even if it is just my perception. I know they are doing their best. Of course they want a dad. I just wish there were a switch to turn the pain off and there was no need to reconcile any of it. But, today, this is what it is.
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Previously Published on medium
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