Parenting Insights
By Dr. Emily Carter
Updated: July 16, 2020
Originally Published: December 17, 2015
Four years ago, after settling my then-toddler into bed, I spent approximately 15 minutes restoring order to our living room. Each toy had a designated spot, ensuring we could easily locate them the following day. Among our possessions were five wooden peg puzzles. Daily, my child would scatter these puzzles across the floor, and every night I meticulously returned them—letters, numbers, animals, and shapes—back to their rightful places.
My rationale for this nightly routine was straightforward. If the puzzles did not return to their designated spots, how would we ever find them again? How could my child learn her letters if the alphabet was disorganized and missing essential vowels?
I held specific beliefs about her diet—organic food was a priority—and how much sleep she required—12 hours plus two naps of at least 40 minutes each. I consumed parenting literature, striving to anticipate what lay ahead. I was, admittedly, a bit obsessive.
My primary aspiration was to be a good mother, a role I took seriously. I thought that by implementing these “rules,” I was equipping my daughter with the necessary tools for success in life.
However, my perspective has dramatically shifted in the past four years. I’ve come to realize that my need to restore order in our home was driven by a deeper desire for control over my life, which felt chaotic and unmanageable.
Back then, I couldn’t admit, even to myself, how deeply unhappy I was in my marriage. Now, two years after initiating divorce proceedings and nine months post-finalization, I reflect on that turbulent period with clarity.
Initially, following the divorce papers being served, my ex-husband and I were forced to coexist in the same house for over a month due to logistics. He refused to leave, and I had nowhere else to go. It resembled a disorienting and frightening environment, akin to a haunted house. His presence sent shivers down my spine, and every sound took on a haunting significance.
During this time, my ex would often play Aloe Blacc’s song “The Man” on repeat from the basement where he was staying. The song’s brash lyrics emphasized arrogance and self-importance, which he danced to with our children.
One evening, he told me, “You dropped a nuclear bomb, and now it’s war.” That sentiment has echoed in our interactions ever since.
In my efforts to prioritize our children’s well-being, I reached out for compromise. I sent messages urging cooperation for their sake, but my pleas fell on deaf, vengeful ears. I compromised significantly during mediation, to the point where my attorney advised against it, deeming it excessive. Yet, my desire for resolution overshadowed my concerns. Unfortunately, the more I conceded, the more my ex demanded, ultimately leading us to trial.
The trial spanned four grueling days in a cold December, with eight weeks of waiting for a verdict. My ex-husband’s legal strategy aimed to avoid child support and leave me financially unstable. Thankfully, that plan failed, but the repercussions have lingered.
Despite court orders, communication with my children during their time with him is frequently obstructed. We have a court-appointed parenting coach to oversee our interactions, as he is often unwilling to communicate respectfully or even make eye contact. Consequently, this high-conflict environment persists even two years later.
Recently, while playing a game with friends, we asked our children to describe their parents. My daughter referred to me as a “writer.” When asked about her father, she exclaimed, “Hates Mommy the most!” Although that wasn’t the one-word response requested, it was a reflection of our reality.
Four years of turmoil have shown me that no matter how hard I try, I can’t piece together the world my daughter deserves to inhabit. This truth resonates deeply within me.
To be a good mother today means relinquishing strict routines and embracing a broader understanding of love. I am well-versed in various philosophies and practices—including meditation, yoga, and the importance of faith—but the emotional turmoil stemming from my co-parent’s hostility remains challenging to navigate.
It is a painful truth that the other half of my children’s parental structure has positioned himself as my adversary. A man with whom I once shared my life now seems to derive satisfaction from my struggles. This dynamic has tested everything I believed about parenting and humanity, introducing complexities that go beyond traditional wisdom.
Every task, even signing my daughter up for gymnastics, demands strategic planning and negotiation. Nevertheless, I persist. I would endure it all again if necessary to provide my children with a safe, respectful home, free from manipulation and fear.
Parenting amidst adversity is never straightforward, especially when co-parenting with a narcissist. This experience has required more strength than I ever imagined, compelling me to set aside my ego and pride while dismantling my need for control. Ultimately, this was the true battle.
Thus, instead of piecing together toys each night, I focus on nurturing my own resilience. If I falter, I strive to improve. If I experience a good day, I express gratitude. This process repeats daily, as I know these qualities—faith, hope, gratitude, forgiveness, and love—are what truly define my role as a mother.
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Summary
Navigating parenthood when your co-parent becomes an adversary is a complex journey. Initially driven by a desire for control, the author reflects on her struggles after deciding to separate from her unhappy marriage. Living under one roof with her ex-husband while managing children became a battleground, marked by emotional turmoil and conflict. Through trials and challenges, she emphasizes the importance of resilience, gratitude, and love, ultimately redefining what it means to be a good mother in a high-conflict environment.
Keyphrase: Parenting with an adversarial co-parent
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