Family Redefined: Childhood Reflections on the Impact of Divorce

Introduction

If not for my naivete, this book may never have been written. After twelve years of marriage living in a toxic environment, I filed for divorce, certain that I was making the right choice for my son and myself. I never expected this decision to catapult my son into a world of confusion and chaos and was certainly ill-equipped to handle it.

My son was ten years old at the time, and I believed there couldn’t be any negative repercussions because I was removing us from a volatile and abusive situation. I soon found out how wrong my presumption was. My son’s anger became apparent soon after his father moved out. It manifested in a number of small yet subtle ways: refusing to go to school, keeping me at a distance, and at times erupting into bursts of anger over minor disagreements—a complete departure from the congenial and happy child he’d always been.

His most devastating reaction was aimed directly at me. Our bedtime routine was one I’d cherished. I’d tuck him in, read him a bed time story, gently kiss his forehead, and whisper, I love you.

By the time I reached his door, I’d be gifted with his customary response, I love you too, Mom.

After the divorce, our routine changed. I still tucked him in, I still read him a bedtime story, and I still wished him a good night, but instead of his nightly, I love you’s, his response was silence. The first time he failed to respond, my heart felt as though it stopped. When it happened the following night, and the night after that, and the night after that, I convinced myself he was going through a phase. That phase lasted nine months. When he finally spoke the words I’d longed to hear, I love you, Mom. I bolted across the room, grabbed him, and held him in my arms, never wanting to let go. My little boy was back!

Adults rarely consider how divorce is interpreted by a child, which is why I felt this book was not only necessary but vital for divorced parents, offering them a child’s insight of the impact this life-altering decision has on them. The personal stories shared within these pages offer parents an opportunity to travel the rocky path of divorce from a child’s viewpoint—a child who not only traveled it but came out the other side.

The brave men and women featured in this book have shared their experiences, both good and bad. These testaments to those currently enmeshed in the perils of divorce offer hope that there will come a day when you and your child will return to a place of normalcy, though it may be a new definition of normalcy.

For those currently traveling this uncharted journey of uncertainty that follows divorce, the question continues to linger: Did I make the right decision? As certain as you may be that you did, the haunting mantra of what if? remains. I know it did for me. It is moments like my son’s long overdue I love you that feed a parent’s hope to hold on. Things will work out. Your story will have a happy ending. For a parent going through this difficult journey, waiting for those moments acknowledging that you’ve made the right choice is nothing short of agonizing.

But as you continue along your path, never forget that your child is right there with you every step of the way, and he or she is experiencing the same angst, fear, and confusion as you. But in addition to those revolving emotions, they are also trying to comprehend what has happened to their family. Why has their world been turned upside down? This is a crucial time. A parent’s guidance, support, and above all, unconditional love is needed more now than ever.

It is my sincere hope that this book offers all who read it the message: you are not alone. I ask that you hold onto that fact. I ask that you hold onto your child. I ask that you hold onto the belief that it will get better, because it will. My son and I are living proof of that.

1

Lisa

Lisa, an only child, was six years old when her parents separated. Now fifty-six, Lisa vividly recalls the day her parents informed her of their decision, which ultimately changed the course of her life. The memory of that day still ignites a sense of anxiety and insecurity, traits of Lisa’s personality that she carried with her into adulthood.

The Announcement

The six-year-old, dressed in blue jeans and a faded T-shirt, her Keds scuffed at the toes, sat on the couch and watched in silence. Her parents, who appeared to be moving in slow motion, turned their backs to her and entered their bedroom. Lisa watched her father’s hand turn the doorknob, and then she heard the metallic click of the lock.

Lisa was met with a surprise when she had arrived home that day. Katie, her mother—who normally worked during the day—was waiting for her when she came through the front door. In stoic silence, Katie motioned for Lisa to take a seat on the couch. The little girl watched her mom wipe tears from her face as Katie explained in a quivering voice that she and her father needed to talk, and afterward, they would want to talk to Lisa.

Until then, wait quietly like a good girl, Katie instructed.

Living in a stressful environment had become the norm for Lisa. Her parents had married young. Katie was eighteen at the time and six months pregnant with Lisa. Stan, Lisa’s father, was nineteen. Stan’s habitual criticizing not only of Katie but also of Lisa led the child to develop an eating disorder very early on, overeating in times of stress as a type of self-punishment for not meeting her father’s standards.

Lisa sat on the edge of the dark brown couch, feeling the ridges of the corduroy material between her fingers, half-watching Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. She couldn’t focus. Her stomach felt just like it did when she’d accidentally swallowed a peach pit. She bit down on her lower lip as she stared at the locked door, waiting for it to open. After what felt like hours, Lisa decided she’d had enough waiting.

She stood up and marched to the door, hesitating a beat before rapping her knuckles against it.

We’ll be out soon, Katie called.

Lisa’s heart jumped at the sound of her mother’s voice, which sounded muffled and hoarse. She returned to the couch, and a few minutes later, her parents joined her in the living room. Her mother sat beside her, and her father chose the oversized chair across the room from them both.

Your dad’s going to go away for a while, Katie explained. He’ll still be around, but he just won’t be with us anymore.

Lisa looked from her mother and then to her father, who was avoiding her eyes.

Okay, let’s eat something, Lisa said.

Nearly five decades later, sitting on her couch in her two-bedroom apartment, Lisa recalls that day with clarity and regret.

The moment that came out of my mouth, I felt like crap. I said it like that, in front of my dad. And then I had angst over that, and guilt, like crazy. I felt like, oh, now my dad thinks I don’t care for him, she says.

Lisa vehemently shakes her head, her short hair tossing side to side, trying to dismiss the memory from her mind, but the pain in her pale blue eyes indicates that’s not possible. The sting of guilt is a powerful injury.

The New Normal

Soon after the announcement, Lisa and her mother moved out of the family home, and Stan moved in with his parents, never debating Katie’s insistence she assume full custody of their child.

Living full-time with her mother ignited an overprotective obsession in Lisa regarding her welfare. If she noticed Katie was feeling down, Lisa felt it was her responsibility to cheer her up. Fortunately, Katie handled these scenarios with affirmation and reassured Lisa time and again that the separation wasn’t her fault.

She would say to me, ‘Lisa, this has nothing to do with you. It’s something I have to figure out, and I’m going to, and everything is going to be fine,’ Lisa says.

Lisa releases a heavy sigh as she reflects on those early days. Her biggest regret is that her mother felt the necessity to put on a happy face, hiding the fears and insecurities she felt, always wanting to appear strong for Lisa’s sake.

If my mom would have said, ‘You know, Lisa, I want to do the best by you, and for you, but I’m feeling like I’m failing.’ Or, ‘I’m not doing enough for you,’ that would have helped, Lisa says. Because it’s great to be the strong one for your kid, but if your kid is probably going through the same emotions, you could get a lot of camaraderie from that. It’s like, you know what, let’s band together and see what we can do and figure it out together.

Marriage and Family Therapist Vicki Minerva agrees that an honest relationship between parent and child is beneficial, but the key is how the parent communicates that truth to the child.

I would communicate that you’ve got support. You’ve got friends, you’ve got family, you’ve got classes you can take. You can say, ‘I’m learning how to take care of myself so I can take care of us.’ A child needs to know an adult has resources. Those are important things. When that’s not true, it’s a scarier situation. And you don’t want to have the child become parentified and feeling like they have to take care of the parent.

Abandonment Issues

Even though Lisa spent a great deal of her after-school time with her grandparents, Stan’s parents, their son was rarely home, which Lisa believes was a conscious effort on her father’s part. Times with her father were infrequent, at best.

Lisa’s relationship with her father had always been somewhat strained, even before the separation, but after, Stan’s absences had a greater impact on the six-year-old. Lisa would find herself thinking about him and wondering if he was missing her.

I would idolize him because of not seeing him too much, Lisa says.

As Stan pulled away from Lisa, Katie realized the effect his absence was having on her daughter.

So, my mom I guess called him and said, ‘Hey, you need to spend some time with your kid.’

Katie had another motive as well: finding time for herself. My mom didn’t get to do anything. When she wasn’t working, she was being a parent, Lisa says.

Katie’s prodding resulted in Stan accompanying Lisa to a number of her favorite places, including the Ice Capades and dog shows, but it was never just the two of them. On each of the outings, Stan invited at least one of Lisa’s friends to tag along, leaving Lisa to believe he never wanted to spend time together with just her.

Lisa’s insecurity was compounded by his habitual belittlement. He compared her to the other children and asked why she couldn’t be more like them. This additional emotional stress resulted in Lisa becoming comfortable with self-abuse.

I just hid myself in food, she says. That was the only way I could get some gratification or satisfaction.

One particular incident—when Stan invited Lisa and her friend to go to the zoo—still stands out as a low point in their relationship. Sitting in the back seat of her father’s Lincoln Town Car, Lisa and her best friend, Jill, played I Spy as Stan navigated the highway. The girls, excited about their outing, called out familiar landmarks along the way.

There’s the McDonald’s where I had my birthday party, Lisa said with a smile that showed the gap between her two front teeth.

But the fun was spoiled almost as soon as they arrived at the zoo. The gift shop was their first stop.

How about I buy each of you a T-shirt. Would you like that? Stan said.

The girls immediately responded, shouting, Yes! in unison.

Stan smiled and then added, But, you have to let me pick out the shirts.

The girls entertained themselves with animal figurines as Stan browsed through the racks of T-shirts. Caught up in their play, they almost missed when Stan called to them that he was ready to leave. Carefully, the girls placed the miniature statues back on the shelves and then headed out the door to meet up with Stan, who was waiting for them with a large bag in his hand.

Reaching into the bag, he ceremoniously pulled out a pale pink T-shirt with a picture of a princess on the front. Lisa went for the shirt, but Stan pulled it out of her reach.

This one’s for Jill because she’s such a little princess. I hope you like it, Stan said, handing Jill the shirt as she squealed with delight.

Lisa made an unsuccessful attempt to peek inside the bag.

Patience, Lisa, patience, he said with a smile. Only his smile reminded Lisa of the villain in a Disney movie.

Lisa waited as her father reached inside the bag and pulled out a purple and red shirt featuring a giant human mouth on the front. In big, bold letters it read, DO NOT FEED. Lisa’s smile fell, her face reddened, and her throat grew tight. Jill quickly hid her new shirt behind her back.

I don’t want it, Lisa said, just before turning her back on her father.

Lisa’s face reddens once again as she recalls the anger that consumed her that day.

I was pissed. I was pissed at the stupid place for even having a shirt like that. I’ll never forget it, she says.

Over the next few years, Lisa began to see through her father’s bravado. "You couldn’t