Through My Child’s Eyes: The Weight of a Parent’s Choices
There are moments in life that redefine everything... Moments that carve deep into the soul, leaving wounds that never quite heal. For me, one of those moments wasn’t just my own heartbreak, but the realization that children carry the weight of their parents' choices, whether they want them to or not.
I grew up caught in a battlefield between two people who were supposed to love me more than they hated each other. Instead, I was a piece of bologna between two slices of bread, squished and stuck, as my grandmother and I used to joke.
I swore I would never let that happen to my child.
And yet, here I am. Fighting for him. Fighting against the very cycle I swore I would break.
A Love That Faded, but a Child That Remains
When I met the father of my son, I wanted to believe in something strong, something lasting. At first, we had that. Or maybe I wanted to believe we did.
But over time, love gave way to distance, silence, betrayal. Conversations turned into avoidance. Commitment turned into resentment. Promises unraveled in front of me, one thread at a time.
By the time it was over, there wasn’t just a broken relationship. There was a child in the middle of it. A child who deserved peace, not war. Stability, not chaos. Love, not manipulation.
And yet, instead of working toward co-parenting in a way that would heal, I found myself trapped in a dynamic where choices were made based on control, not care. Ego, not empathy.
The Unseen Scars of a Parent’s War
People think that kids are too young to notice, too innocent to understand.
They do. They always do.
Children see when one parent places their new life above their old one.
They hear the anger in phone calls, the tension in exchanges, the words spoken in frustration.
They feel the shift in priorities, the quiet dismissals, the battles fought over them rather than for them.
They carry it. And just like I carried my parents' war as a child, I now watch my own son caught in a battle he never asked to be in.
I refuse to let that define his future.
Co-Parenting: A Choice, Not a Competition
I’ve spent years trying to co-parent with someone who doesn’t see co-parenting the same way I do.
To me, it means putting the child first—not my feelings, not my frustrations, not my personal resentment.
To me, it means making decisions based on what is best for my son’s emotional and mental health, not what is easiest, most convenient, or most self-serving.
But co-parenting only works when both parents are willing to do the work.
When one parent makes choices that place control, ego, or even a new relationship above their child’s emotional well-being, the damage is inevitable. It doesn't just hurt in the moment; it shapes the way a child sees love, trust, stability, and even their own self-worth.
I’ve tried. I’ve bent over backwards. I’ve compromised. I’ve swallowed my pride for the sake of my child, because at the end of the day, my personal feelings toward his father don’t matter; only my son’s happiness does.
But no matter how much effort one parent puts in, it can never compensate for another parent’s refusal to do the same.
And that? That is where co-parenting stops being co-parenting and starts becoming survival.
The Court System: A Place of Justice, or a Battlefield?
If co-parenting isn’t hard enough, enter the legal system—a place where children become case numbers, paperwork, and courtroom arguments.
When you fight for your child in court, you’re not just battling the other parent—you’re battling a system that is:
Overloaded, slow-moving, and desensitized to family struggles.
Based on technicalities and laws, not necessarily what is best for the child.
Focused on legal rights over emotional realities.
Easily influenced by manipulation, financial power, or who has the best legal strategy—not necessarily who is the best parent.
And the hardest part? Children feel every second of it.
📌 The stress of court dates.
📌 The constant uncertainty about where they’ll live or who they’ll be with.
📌 The emotional toll of being torn between two people they love.
What does that do to a child’s sense of safety? Stability? Trust?
The truth is, the courtroom doesn’t heal; it prolongs. It drags the pain, forces wounds to stay open, and often turns parent against parent in ways that can never be undone.
Some parents go into the system genuinely wanting the best for their child.
Others use it as a weapon—to control, to punish, to win.
But here’s the truth no one talks about: There are no real winners in custody battles.
Even when one parent "wins" in court, the child always loses something.
Navigating this system is brutal, but finding a support network or a good therapist has been crucial for me to stay grounded for my son.
Breaking the Cycle, No Matter How Hard It Gets
I have every reason to be bitter. I have every excuse to sink into anger, resentment, and hatred for the way I’ve been treated, for the way my child has been used as a pawn, for the way my love for a child who wasn’t biologically mine was ripped from my life.
But I won’t.
Because bitterness is a cycle, and cycles repeat when no one is brave enough to break them.
I will not let my child become a casualty of poor decisions.
I will not let him carry the weight of adult conflicts on his small shoulders.
I will not let his future be shaped by the selfish choices of the past.
I am breaking this cycle. That means choosing silence over shouting, empathy over ego, and always, always putting his well-being above my own frustrations, no matter how hard it feels
Even if I have to do it alone.
Even if I have to fight for him every single day.
Even if I have to be the only one who puts him first.
Because when he looks back one day, I want him to say:
"My mother never gave up on me."
"She never let me feel like I was a game piece in someone else’s battle."
"She fought for me, and because of that, I know what love really means."
And that? That is the legacy I choose to leave behind.
What About You?
Now, I turn to you, the reader.
💬 Have you ever been caught in the middle of a custody battle, either as a parent or a child?
💬 What are the hardest challenges you’ve faced in co-parenting?
💬 If you could change one thing about the family court system, what would it be?
Let’s talk about it. Let’s start the conversation that no one wants to have, but everyone needs to hear.
Because our children deserve better.
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