Before I start writing my set of articles I think it might be a good idea to provide a bit of background, introduce the actors, and more importantly why I am doing this.
It is very difficult to start writing about this, especially directly after that time of the year that is the most precious to those with children. But I believe it is quite important for various reasons to document what has happened. I have read dozens of blogs and books on the subject of parental alienation in the last seven years and several things have occurred to me:
- Some books are written practically as a diary, detailing the court cases, meetings with social services, but no real details of how it happened.
- Quite a few focus on the (in some countries) inequitable level of child maintenance.
- There lots of scientific articles that describe how to detect it, and in general terms how it occurs
But practically none have come up with examples that show how children over time come to hate one of their parents. Because although people know this happens, they cannot imagine how it can happen – that is apart from the obvious cases of a parent shielding their child from the absent parent. I will try to show through my personal experience how this can happen, slowly over time, maliciously using every trick possible. In a concerted effort to eradicate the absent parent from the lives of the children. Where possible I will also try to mention where I went wrong, and give tips on what not to do (for example let yourself be provoked).
My major hope is that I can somehow show to others not affected directly that this is done with malice aforethought and accepting the collateral damage that goes with the actions taken. My wish is that people will see this for what it is – a campaign of emotional abuse over years directed against the absent parent and the consequent emotional abuse of the children, especially when those children become adults and are able to make up their own minds as to what happened as they were children.
So a little background about me. I was born 53 years ago to working class parents in the north-west of England. I somehow managed to get enough grades to study at university and spent as part of that study a year working in Holland. Once I graduated I managed to get back to the continent and was seconded to work in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe – Munich. It took several me several years and some girlfriends (!) to finally find my future wife – she worked as the team secretary where I worked. After a year I bought a flat and we moved in together, where two years later the first of our sons – Jonathan arrived, followed by Raphael two years later. My then wife is very much a control person, and this pattern came out with our sons. I had to fit in with her way of doing things. No real discussion. It is hard to say when the rot started to manifest itself in our marriage, but we drifted slowly apart – neither to blame just two different ways of ‘being’. The older the children became, the more I did not agree with her extremely authoritarian way of parenting. I certainly am more easy going, and to judge from my step-son (more about that later) it is not wrong. When my eldest son was six years old I moved into the spare room. The marriage had broken down, but she refused point blank to go to a therapist, and with a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach regarding what would happen viz-a-viz the children if I did move out and a heavy mortgage I stayed.
It is hard to say when the rot started to manifest itself in our marriage, but we drifted slowly apart – neither to blame just two different ways of ‘being’. The older the children became, the more I did not agree with her extremely authoritarian way of parenting. I certainly am more easy going, and to judge from my step-son (more about that later) my approach is not wrong. When my eldest son was six years old I moved into the spare room. The marriage had broken down, but she refused point blank to go to a therapist, and with a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach regarding what would happen viz-a-viz the children if I did move out and a heavy mortgage I stayed.
Then came what had to happen – one of us found somebody else. The first boyfriend of my wife started stalking her family to find out her current address and eventually he got in touch with her. It turned into an affair, that led to the end of a loveless marriage. Both of us to blame – if somebody wants to apportion blame. I moved out in June 2009. She stayed in the house, with me paying the mortgage as well as a flat nearby so I could see the kids. It worked fairly well. I saw them every other weekend, and during the week as well. The break happened when in January 2010 she moved to Eichstätt, north of Ingolstadt. Funnily enough exactly the same distance away from her workplace as before – but far enough away as to make things difficult for me. The first letter from her lawyers arrived in January that year, where she was ‘allowing me to ring’ the children twice a month.
This was the start, and it has been going downhill from thereon in.
I remarried in 2015, and have been with my new wife and her son Felix (now 8) for three years now. I am happy, but I still miss the contact with my own children terribly. I feel as do all excluded parents, as if there is something missing in my soul.
I never wanted to take the children away from her, all I wanted was a regular access every two to three weeks. What she has orchestrated was so unnecessary for all of us, and her acts of abuse will remain with myself and my children for the rest of our lives.
© lost dad 2017