Truth Bomb #1: My Can of Worms is Bigger

I cannot believe this is where we stand. The calendar says it is June 30, 2022. Supposing that is accurate information, I have been officially divorced exactly eight years, eight months, and 27 days. One would think I've lived a whole new life in the past eight years, but sadly I must admit I've been on a turnstile that never stops spinning. Joining me on the turnstile? My two children, Elizabeth and Andrew. We have been trapped going round and round and round. Never to escape the metal bars and leaving us all with the dizzying effect of a really bad ride.

Today is the day I start to stop the dizzying effects of this painful ride. Today is the first court hearing in a brand new set of motions brought on by the nex (narcissistic ex, sperm donor, the person my children call dad). Remarkably, after two wildly expensive parenting coordinators, 16 different post-divorce decisions, 26 maddening and conflicting parenting "rules," one guardian ad lidem and a year-long parenting investigation, weekly interactions with two attorneys, plus support from psychiatrists, counselors, therapists and pediatricians, we are back in court. Whew. Are you tired yet? Is your head spinning? Mine is, and so are the minds and hearts of my kiddos.

So despite the hundreds of thousands of dollars, hours, missed work, and even hospital and therapy visits, here we are in the court room. Again. Scheduled to stand before a magistrate to share our complicated story. Tick, tick, tick the clock goes and time moves on and we present our story over and over and over again. Ching ching ching goes the financial devastation associated with this never-ending ride. Beat beat beat, our hearts our torn apart again.

Despite our best attempts to "co-parent," the "guidance' we've received over the past eight years, and the hundreds of thousands of dollars we've given to dozens of professionals, my ex-husband filed new motions for custody, removal of parental rights, a psychological evaluation of me saying I'm "unfit" and a reduction in child support. Boom.

Here's the thing. I'm not an idiot, and because I love my children more than life itself, I'm not going to turn over and wish him the best and walk away. Nope. It's more of a middle finger kind of moment, I must admit. He opened the can of worms. And guess what? My can is bigger. My worms are larger. My story will no longer be silenced. Thanks to my brilliant attorney, we're opening that can together.

So today is the first day of the biggest fight of my life. I'll use this blog to chronicle the journey through the complicated family court system, but I will also share stories and truth bombs from the past. With each truth bomb, there is a lesson I've learned and an outcome that has made me stronger. This newest experience is no different. I'll share the good, the bad and the ugly. Maybe a taco or a margarita or two will help make it a little easier to swallow.

Join me on this journey. I invite you to learn more about the complicated family court system, domestic violence, narcissistic abuse and mental health. If my story can help even one family, it's worth sharing.

So we will start today, by opening up a big ass can of worms. It's time to share the first truth bomb. My can of worms is bigger. Bring it.