Is “family court” an oxymoron? It has to be! The words ‘family’ and ‘court’ should never exist in the same sentence. It’s like a match and gasoline – the results are explosive and casualties are almost always guaranteed.
During my year in “family court,” I shed so many tears. I had so many sleepless nights. I found it difficult to work or have any fun. This consumed me. There were moments when I felt I couldn’t prove effectively enough that my ex was lying , and the judge could rule in his favor. I found strength hard to come by and positivity even harder.
I was under an emotional attack and it was hard to believe that my enemy once whispered sweet nothing’s in my ear. His disdain and hatred for me far surpassed his love for our baby. He was determined to see me buckle and crack under this pressure. It was surreal. I was in a state of emergency!
Whatever I felt for this guy before was replaced by indifference and sheer, unadulterated hatred. When I looked at him, when I heard him speak – it physically repulsed me. He lied, of course. He needed to, in order to have a ‘case.’ He’d thrown civility to the wind when he decided on this course of action. The realization that I had to deal with this man for a good portion of my life was enough to render me catatonic. It just made me want to vomit.
I spent nearly a year locked in a bitter custody battle but thankfully, at the end of it all, I managed to retain sole custody of my child. Him? He retained his bitterness and goal to always be a pain in my ass!
Fast forward to present day and a lot has changed. Surprisingly, he has gotten past his disdain for me. We’re still a match and gasoline, but the explosions have ceased – for now.