the labyrinth
By: Margaret Sabatino
Tags: Parenting, Irony, Power, Coparenting, Labyrinth

I have been fighting for so long I cannot remember not fighting. I have been fighting for what is right, just, and fair. That sounds so victimy. I am rolling my eyes at myself. Why? Why am I judging? I am sure I will get to that at some point. It is a theme.

I have been maneuvering and juggling and figuring it out on the fly. I have done this because I was afraid. Afraid of the one who rules by threats and intimidation. I can finally say with relatively strong conviction that I am no longer afraid. Or not so much that I am no longer afraid but that I, in spite of my fear, choose to be brave. It has taken me so long to get here. So much work. So much faith. A classic case of learned helplessness. It has been my primary goal for as long as I can remember to find my way out of what I perceived as a closed labyrinth. Is that redundant? Trying to find an answer to that one. Is a labyrinth by definition closed? Regardless, I have. I’m out. In the meantime, my children have been indoctrinated into the labyrinth.

By me.

So out here with all of my well earned bravery I look inside and there they are. The irony is sickening.

They are terrified. I was terrified so I get it. They are old enough now that they get to decide what to do when they are terrified. I cannot protect them any longer as I have done their entire lives. They decide whether to cave or to stand up and be brave. By letting him terrify me for all this time it seems that I have shown them how to be terrified. I hope that in my latest incarnation I am also beginning to teach them to rise above their fear and to be brave.

I have navigated, accommodated, managed, and oftentimes simply capitulated for so long now that this is all my children understand. I taught them to be afraid. This is sinking in. I always believed that I would someday muster the strength and that I would be brave and that would be it. The terror would end. Not so much. This is my fault.

And so I find myself continuing to navigate, accommodate, manage, and sometimes capitulate. Although it is now for them, and no longer so much for myself and certainly not for him. I would like to add that it has really always been for them. The caving that has taken place has been in their best interest. I wanted them to have a relationship with their father. I wanted to make it easy. For them. I never wanted them in the middle of an awful battle. This is not to say that I have any interest in battling with this person. It always seemed for so many reasons the better option was to figure it out and accommodate. This might have worked if the degree of tyranny had not steadily increased over time to unbearable heights.

I created this dynamic. I may finally be willing to stand up to the bully yet they are not ready. I see glimmers from time to time of their desire to stand up and sometimes they do. In small ways. Sometimes they simply vent their frustrations to me and that is enough. They are speaking their truth and they are being heard. Unfortunately, I am not the audience that needs their perspective.

Vague. There is no reference point and I am beginning to wonder if one is necessary. I am uncertain. If you do not need one, skip to the end. If you’d like a tale, read on. My intention was to ponder this circumstance and the overwhelming irony.

Parenting…

The latest restriction that has been placed, quite timely placed, I would say, as I gain my strength, is that my three almost grown children (who are I might add, extremely competent and independent) ages 15 1/2, 15 1/2 and 17 are no longer allowed to stay in my home without me. They cannot be left alone for 30 minutes so that I may run to the market, much less a few hours so that I may go to work. While I consider this ridiculous and will not comply, my children again are terrified. “What if he finds out you aren’t home? What if he texts and asks if you are home? What do I say mom?” I tell them as calmly as I can muster that they should say whatever they are comfortable saying. I would never encourage much less ask them to lie. Not to their father or to anyone. He has gone so far as to tell them they will be murdered by a crack addict if I leave them alone. The world is very dangerous right now, he says. He has through my children, as he does not communicate with me, said that he will have me deemed an unfit mother if I leave them home alone. He will call child services. This is an absolute joke. They would hang up on him. I know. This is what I do for a living. I try to convey this to them with reason so they will not also be afraid for me or fear that I might have my parental rights revoked. They tell me he is ruthless and he will stop at nothing and they have seen him do this and he cannot be underestimated. I continue to reassure them to no avail. All the while reassuring myself. I may be out of the labyrinth yet I am not quite out of the woods on the terror bit. He has convinced them, as he once did me, that he is above the law and he will prevail at any cost. They are not willing to call the bully’s bluff and confront him. They are not willing to risk the unknown havoc he will wreak. He also tells them regularly that if they do not obey him he will stop paying for them and they will be homeless with their mother, who would be homeless without him. That’s me btw. This sounds terrifying. Two of my children are willing to roll the dice. One is not. She is most terrified. And most compliant. She calls him each time I have to go somewhere at which time he rants and demands that they all come to his house where they will be safe, always sure to add that I am an irresponsible parent and I am certain some other lovelies that they probably don’t want to repeat.

How do I cave you ask? I change my work schedule and reduce my hours and in turn my income, in order to be home when they are in my custody. Let’s remember that children are no longer in school in person. I have three grown toddlers home all day who by the way don’t really want to hang out with me when they are here. This part is completely understandable. They are teenagers. Funny part is that they might not even notice if I left and didn’t mention it.

So I stand at the exit of the labyrinth that I unknowingly lead them into, and I shine my light and hope they find their way out.

It occurs to me that had I carried them out when they were small things may have gone differently.

I really thought I was doing the best thing. Maybe I was.

Hindsight is not always 20/20.