The Trials – Part 2

I was 11 years old. At this point, I’ve seen and heard a lot, but I don’t fully understand the dynamics of my parents’ struggles. I know they both love me. I know they don’t love each other.

I was often offered the opportunity to ‘babysit’ for a woman from church. Interestingly enough, she would never leave the house while I was babysitting, but would simply offer me $10 to hang out with her toddlers while she thumbed through flyers and made her grocery lists. At the time, this didn’t seem unusual to me, and I loved the taste of responsibility! Summer rolled around, and she offered to bring me along on their family vacation to Ontario, where I could also visit my Nanny and cousins. I was ecstatic, and truly had the trip of a lifetime.

After two weeks of total bliss in Ontario, we began the long drive home. It was a 20 hour drive, and the tone in the vehicle had changed. The silence in the car was thick enough that my 11 year old self could feel it. We finally pulled into our hometown, and I noticed that we were not driving to my home, where I was expecting to be dropped off.

Aren’t you taking me home? I wonder, but don’t ask. 

We pulled into their driveway, and they gently encouraged me to step inside and have a seat on the couch. They broke the news to me that my loving, dedicated mom had moved away while I was gone. She’s now living in another city, and they don’t know what to do. They offered for me to stay there, but I was desperate to be home.  I think they knew, and understood, why my mom had to leave. But I didn’t.

“I hear water is good for tears” says the husband, as we cried together on the couch for awhile before, eventually, they took me home. Home was not the same anymore. 

My mom was gone. There was no FaceTime, texting wasn’t yet prevalent, and I was at the mercy of my dad to arrange for visits. He cared for me well, and my needs were met, but it was lonely.

Why did she leave me? When will I see her again?

My dad told me he would take me to see her whenever I wanted, yet, that was impractical due to distance and schedules. I had school all week, and some evening activities that I loved. How was I supposed to choose where to spend my time?

Every second Friday, my dad would drop me off for a weekend visit with my mom. I would sob as we pulled away to drive home on Sunday. Do you want to just move there? My dad would ask. I can bring you every weekend if you want.

In an attempt to give me options, he caused me an unbearable amount of stress. I was 11 years old, the same age that my daughter holds today as I write this. How could I possibly be equipped to make a decision about which city to live in, with which parent, and when. The pressure weighed so heavily, and the feelings of insecurity started to settle into their long-term home. 

At that time in my life, I felt incredible loyalty towards both of my parents. I knew that to choose one, meant to hurt the other. I knew that to stay in my hometown meant that I’d miss my mom terribly, but to move meant that I’d lose everything else, like the stability of my school, activities, church, and friendships.

I felt like I was choosing my extra-curricular over my mom, which wasn’t an accurate depiction of my loyalty. As a young girl, it felt like it would be detrimental to spend to much time away from my friends.. like I would loose my place, and then I would really have nothing left.

I laid awake night after night, considering my options, and which one might make me feel better, eventually. I so desperately wished that someone would just decide for me, and take that burden of guilt away from me.

School started up again in September, and no one had told my teachers what was going on at home. Every day, like clock-work, when lunch time would roll around, I would get hit with an overwhelming wave of sadness that I couldn’t hold back. I would burst into tears at my desk and the wave of embarrassment would strike. I recall so badly wanting my teacher to ask me what was wrong, and to offer some sort of support, or validation for how I was feeling.

Instead, my ‘friend’ who sat a couple of desks over tossed a less-than-consoling comment my way…

Why do you always cry at lunch time? You’re always fine in the morning and then cry at lunch. If you were actually sad you wouldn’t wait until lunch time to cry..

Ouuuuuf. As if the embarrassment of my outbursts wasn’t enough. I think this was the onset of realizing that my life looked very different than those of my friends, and that I didn’t want them to see any more of what was happening behind the scenes.

The Lessons

In reflecting on this season, there are a couple of things that I think would have been very helpful to me.

Make a parenting arrangement for the sake of your child

First and foremost, it would have been such a relief if my parents had created a formal parenting arrangement that put me at the centre, and didn’t put such a strain on my loyalty to each of them. Despite good intentions to be flexible and let me decide what I wanted, it backfired. The constant strain of thinking about how much time I had spent with each parent, and how I could balance my time better to show my loyalty to each of them was too much, and it set me onto a path of hyper-sensitivity that burdened me for most of my life. A child is not emotionally equipped to carry that weight. They love and need both parents if at all possible, and their childhood needs to be protected at all costs.

Your parenting plan could be as simple as outlining a schedule for parenting time, level of flexibility, and how to communicate any changes. It should be clear that changes should be discussed with your co-parent first, before the child, and that you both need to play by the same rules on this in order to protect the child from the emotional strain.

Communicate with teachers, coaches, and other key players in your child’s life

It would have alleviated a lot of pressure if my parents had communicated our situation to my teachers and coaches and made sure that I had someone to go to if I needed support throughout the day. Read more about how teachers can support co-parents and children during separation in my post titled A Teacher’s Guide to Supporting Children Through Parental Separation

Speak Life-giving things about the child’s parents

And last but definitely not least, having someone in my life who spoke life-giving things about my mom. My world and opinions about what was happening and why my mom left were largely shaped by my dad’s words and self-preservation. This was incredibly damaging on my relationship with my mom at the time, because those words penetrated my heart and deepened my feelings of abandonment, and resentment towards my mom. But I needed her, and having people in my life who would nurture that desire to have a relationship with her and speak positively about her would have been incredibly comforting to me. Read more about how you can be that life-giving adult to a child or co-parent in my post titled: A Guide to Speaking Positively About Your Co-Parent