TOPIC 1: Family dynamics in the Twilight Zone [TW: Domestic violence & non-graphic mention of r*pe]
I'd had a bad pain day, so I was in my bed, medicated on prescription painkillers and resting, when the knock on the door came. I heard the person repeatedly insisting they speak with me, and my spouse retort each time that I wasn't home. (I suppose this was easier for him than saying I didn't want to be disturbed. I can't say I disagree with his approach.) They argued in a fashion, and I became nervous. Why would some stranger be so desperate to talk to me? In my medicated haze I began to panic, but I knew I was too foggy-brained and too likely to fall to consider going to the door. I waited the argument out, and it felt like a lifetime between hearing the front door shut and seeing my spouse appear in the bedroom door.
Apparently I'd been served. My ex-husband was suing me for custody of our child. The child he'd chosen not to see or speak to for two years after we split. The child he'd never paid child support for. The child he refused to refer to by their proper pronouns. The child who needed extensive therapy thanks to witnessing his abuse of me. That child? Suddenly he wanted full custody of that child? Somewhere in the depths of my panic, a seed of suspicion was planted.
I went through all the proper steps. I went into significant debt hiring an attorney. And that's when my suspicion reached full-bloom: How in the world was a deadbeat dad would couldn't hold down a steady job affording his attorney?
Speaking with my own, finding out about a meeting, I got the answer: He was being financed by our child's grandmother. Except, not my ex's mother. Mine.
You see, he lived with my mother, moved in a couple of years after we split. I never knew the details of their arrangement, and I never wanted to. The entire concept repulsed me on the basest of levels, especially considering that my mother had come to pick me up the day I left him. She saw the chef's knife stabbed into my vanity, she saw my blood on the walls. Worse, I'd confided in her about all the countless times he had raped me.
But she'd always been abusive in her own right. It was no surprise when her response to me sharing my story was, "Well maybe if you were a better spouse, he wouldn't have done that."
Just a short time before being served those papers, I'd told her she would no longer have unlimited contact with my child, because I was cutting off contact with her entirely. I'd finally recognized her toxicity and realized that it was not my responsibility to try and "fix" her abusive behavior. Blood family was meaningless; I owed her nothing.
So this was her revenge: financing a rapist's attempt to steal the child conceived in just that fashion. Well alright then. I'd play her game, and go through the courts.
Except, my mother is wealthy, and I...well, I was a teacher, rapidly approaching complete and permanent disability leave. I didn't have the endless resources she did. But at the very least, I had facts on my side. Proof that my ex-husband had ignored our child, refused to pay child support. I didn't dare bring the abuse into the case, though. I was too afraid. So many times he'd continued to threaten me and assault me after the split, I just couldn't trust that he wouldn't do it again in revenge. Fear is a terrible thing.
We eventually reached an agreement, hours before our court date cutoff. He got every other weekend, and Wednesdays after school. We received shared legal custody, with me as the decisive tiebreaker. And he had to pay me child support. A pittance, but something. Maybe it could even cover the costs of therapy for our child.
In my eyes, it was a terrible resolution. The concept of being forced to share my dearest one with such a monster after I'd worked so hard to make us safe from him...it nauseated me. It still does to this day. But at least during his custody times, he's rarely with our child.
No, he drops them off with my mother.
At least someone got exactly what they wanted.
Apparently I'd been served. My ex-husband was suing me for custody of our child. The child he'd chosen not to see or speak to for two years after we split. The child he'd never paid child support for. The child he refused to refer to by their proper pronouns. The child who needed extensive therapy thanks to witnessing his abuse of me. That child? Suddenly he wanted full custody of that child? Somewhere in the depths of my panic, a seed of suspicion was planted.
I went through all the proper steps. I went into significant debt hiring an attorney. And that's when my suspicion reached full-bloom: How in the world was a deadbeat dad would couldn't hold down a steady job affording his attorney?
Speaking with my own, finding out about a meeting, I got the answer: He was being financed by our child's grandmother. Except, not my ex's mother. Mine.
You see, he lived with my mother, moved in a couple of years after we split. I never knew the details of their arrangement, and I never wanted to. The entire concept repulsed me on the basest of levels, especially considering that my mother had come to pick me up the day I left him. She saw the chef's knife stabbed into my vanity, she saw my blood on the walls. Worse, I'd confided in her about all the countless times he had raped me.
But she'd always been abusive in her own right. It was no surprise when her response to me sharing my story was, "Well maybe if you were a better spouse, he wouldn't have done that."
Just a short time before being served those papers, I'd told her she would no longer have unlimited contact with my child, because I was cutting off contact with her entirely. I'd finally recognized her toxicity and realized that it was not my responsibility to try and "fix" her abusive behavior. Blood family was meaningless; I owed her nothing.
So this was her revenge: financing a rapist's attempt to steal the child conceived in just that fashion. Well alright then. I'd play her game, and go through the courts.
Except, my mother is wealthy, and I...well, I was a teacher, rapidly approaching complete and permanent disability leave. I didn't have the endless resources she did. But at the very least, I had facts on my side. Proof that my ex-husband had ignored our child, refused to pay child support. I didn't dare bring the abuse into the case, though. I was too afraid. So many times he'd continued to threaten me and assault me after the split, I just couldn't trust that he wouldn't do it again in revenge. Fear is a terrible thing.
We eventually reached an agreement, hours before our court date cutoff. He got every other weekend, and Wednesdays after school. We received shared legal custody, with me as the decisive tiebreaker. And he had to pay me child support. A pittance, but something. Maybe it could even cover the costs of therapy for our child.
In my eyes, it was a terrible resolution. The concept of being forced to share my dearest one with such a monster after I'd worked so hard to make us safe from him...it nauseated me. It still does to this day. But at least during his custody times, he's rarely with our child.
No, he drops them off with my mother.
At least someone got exactly what they wanted.