Archive for the ‘High Conflict Bio Parent’ Category

Although not one of them would admit it, and you’re to self-absorbed to realize it, you don’t know your own children. You may have carried them inside you and gave birth to them, but you don’t truly know them. You know the version of them that they MUST show you. The mask they must wear to receive your love and approval.

It started long ago. It’s gone on as long as I’ve been in the picture. Most likely from their births. The stories you made up, the responsibilities and lies you laid on them. Early on in my relationship with them it was evident they craved motherly love and attention. I didn’t set out to “steal your kids” or usurp your position in any way. If you were truly bonded to them, how could I? How could anyone?

Their love for me threatened you. It shouldn’t have. But you are weak. You are insecure. You hadn’t really “mothered” them much at that point, had you? Their Daddy was the one who took care of them. Even after your divorce, he was the one to stay home with them when they were sick, to feed them, clothe them. True to form, then as now, you were all about show. What people saw of you isn’t what went on behind closed doors. The kids watched all this. They took it all in. When they found safe haven at my home and in my arms, you couldn’t cope. You took it as a personal blow.

They would beg to stay with me even before I married their Daddy. We had so much fun on our adventures. Hiking, cooking, picking apples, playing with my dogs. It was safe at my house. No strange men coming in and out. No high school boys hanging around. No yelling. No having to fend for themselves. No drama. They got to see a Mom in action as I mothered my own children. They obviously liked what they experienced.

The oldest child loved my son. He was fascinated by the fact that he didn’t speak. He loved to play computer games with me. In elementary school he asked me often to visit his classroom. Once I gave a talk there. His class wrote thank you notes. He wrote an extra special note. I treasure it. It was written from his heart before you were able to poison him.

The second child saw right away her Daddy’s love for me. She watched me carefully. I loved that about her! She was shy. Her self esteem virtually nonexistent. I did my best to build her up and make her aware of her own unique talents and beauty. She and I had a secret code we would use to make puzzles out of our notes back and forth. She would make art for me.

The third child tried so hard to be happy and carefree but underneath she was angry and insecure. She would cling to me. Almost every night I would hold her and rock her in my rocking chair as she sucked her thumb. She loved to play games. I gave her a nickname that she was so proud of! I have a little wooden strawberry she gave me that says “I love you” when you open it. It will be mine forever.

The youngest child was always so quiet. He was only three when I met him. He wanted to be pretty much anywhere I was. A few months after I met him he asked me if I would marry him so he could be with me forever. I have the little ring he gave me to wear even though I told him I couldn’t marry him because his Daddy was my boyfriend. We would write stories and draw pictures to match. He was an artist, a creator. You took that out of him, didn’t you? Instead of being allowed to follow his own interests, he had to participate in whatever the dude you were “dating” at the time was doing. Pathetic.

They were happy. They were safe and secure. They loved the family rituals we had…”special plate” each night at family dinner, family game night, date night one on one with each child. They will remember these things. They will also remember the lies you told and the chaos you exposed them to on a regular basis. They will understand that they weren’t “stolen” but that your own actions caused you to be proven unfit and to lose custody. They will understand that was when the war began. Maybe, just maybe, they will realize that if nothing else, you had to step up and at least attempt to be a decent mother to them. The best you could be, anyway. Their Dad had a moral obligation to take them from you and keep them safe which is what he did. I supported him and loved him all the more for it.

Another Mother’s Day as rolled around. Lot’s of praise for you on Facebook as usual. “World’s Greatest Mom!” It’s funny, infuriating, and sad, all at the same time. All of the water that has gone under the bridge and they still can’t be honest with you. They fear your temper tantrums. They shudder at the thought of your disapproval. It’s just easier to lie and make you feel important. No, you don’t know your own children. You never will.

Enjoy your accolades whilst they last Momma. Sooner to later, all of the hate, the lies, the hurt, you have spewed out over the years will make it’s way back to you. Deservedly.

Symptoms of Parental Alienation

Parents Acting Badly (Book)

Helping Adult Children of PAS

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You did your best to ruin it for us. So caught up in your jealousy and insecurities. You pulled out all the stops. I’ve never quite figured that part out because (thank God) I do not and cannot think like you. Why, when you pretty much screwed anything with a dick (regardless of age or you being a “teacher”) while you were married to him, did it upset you so much to see him happy? You were not a wife to him. You barely fit the definition of a mother. You repeatedly put his children in dangerous and unhealthy situations. Yet, somehow, in that warped mind of yours, you were the victim.

You are incapable of accepting responsibility for your actions. That has always fascinated me. Everything is always someone else’s fault. One of our attorneys used to say that you believed your own lies. For years, I couldn’t wrap my head around that statement. Now I have come to see it is true. You do believe your own lies and you can spin some dandies!

For instance, you would tell the kids that I was the reason that you and Daddy were not together. You had to come up with some story I suppose because you certainly couldn’t have told them the truth…”Mommy is a raging whore who spreads her legs for anyone willing to jump between them and Daddy isn’t going to put up with that anymore.” Never mind that I didn’t come into the picture until well after your divorce was final. Don’t worry, they’re adults now. Whether they choose to admit it to themselves or not, they realize the truth.

What about telling them that I “took them from you”? Telling these little kids that I am the reason they could not live with you after their Dad got custody, when they were all still elementary school age. How disgusting is that? Who does that to little kids? Without blinking an eye, you repeatedly victimized your own children.You vilified their father and denigrated the only stable home they had known. Once again, you couldn’t be truthful about your actions, could you? You would have had to admit things such as: “Mommy has sex with high school boys.” “Mommy leaves you alone in the middle of the night without supervision.” “Mommy doesn’t have enough money to pay bills because she has no understanding of money management.” (How about that you can’t even do a simple excel spreadsheet? Damn I am glad we don’t have to try anymore to make sense of that shit you would send over for medical/dental billing. Ugh!)

But here’s what you didn’t know then and still don’t know now. You don’t know me. You will never know me. In over 17 years, you’ve never once had the balls to have a face to face conversation with me. Not even while we were sitting in the same room. Not even while we were in court ordered family counseling. You have gone to my husband with complaints about me, but never once came to me. You have talked about me in class at the school where you are supposed to be teaching. You have spoke about me during activities out in the community with the kids to other parents. You have continuously and consistently pumped your children for any shred of information, the tiniest detail about me, that they could produce. Sickening. And you keep forgetting what a small community we live in. Word travels fast.

So, let’s clear up your confusion. Let me address your misgivings in writing since you are too much of a chicken shit to ever say something straight to my face.

1) I’m not the kind of woman to mess with “someone else’s man”. I’ve never experienced a shortage of men interested in dating me. Not bragging, just saying. Furthermore, I wouldn’t want any man who was with another woman and trying to get me on the side. If they do it with you, they’ll do it to you. To me he would be a lowlife, and I deserve better. No home wrecker here.

2) You lost custody of your children because of your actions. Your lust for teenage boys got you in hot water, not me. Did I try to get you fired from your teaching position? You damn right I did! Any decent person would want you removed from any position giving you access to and/or influence over kids of any age. It is beyond my comprehension that you are still teaching. But fear not, the truth always comes out sooner or later. And shame on each and every teacher and administrator that knows of your vile history and has helped cover it up.

3) Your pathetic attempts at getting personal information from the kids was repulsive. You even went so far as to actually try to get your oldest son to find out where on my body my tattoo was located. I can just imagine what your deviant mind was hoping to do with that information. Here’s a news flash for you…solid, respectable woman do not tell little boys about their personal body markings. Not ever!

4) I will admit I have enjoyed messing with you a bit from time to time. Perfect example, all your calls or emails to my husband about properties we were looking at, congratulating us. Especially funny given my profession. We never shared or discussed anything of a personal nature in front of them or even while they were with us in the house for that matter. It had to be that way. Perfect example of this is my classic Mustang. For years I had a 1964-1/2 Mustang K code classic car. One of the daughters would have loved that car! She would have begged to ride in it and drive it. Sadly, she never even knew we had it. You probably would have gone out and started buying classic cars the way you started trying to buy luxury cars after I bought my Mercedes. We kept things private because we knew the kids would be interrogated by you the minute they got home. We simply let you jump to conclusions based on our activities filtered through the eyes of your envy. You get so caught up trying to make people think you’re wealthy. That’s your game, not mine.

You can put what you know about me in a thimble. You don’t know the people I associate with personally or professionally. My friends or associates aren’t going to talk to you. You don’t know my assets and resources. I made sure of that very early on. If you could have gotten child support from my income, you would have. Scavenger that you are. Remember when you had your attorney ask in court if I intended to buy a Porsche? Did I buy that Porsche? You don’t know because it’s simply none of your damn business. You don’t know what I own because you don’t know me. You don’t know where, how or when I travel. Rest assured, our paths are not likely to cross. Even the most obvious things about me you can’t know because what you do think you know was pieced together from bits and pieces you squeezed out of children. Pathetic.

No, you don’t know me. You never will.

Bet you didn’t sleep well last night. Bet you’re nervous today. Bet you’re scouring the internet and reading all the comments posted under the local news stories, searching social media about the latest local teacher accused of sexual assault, wanting desperately to find what I have written. You know I AM writing about it…you know I AM writing about you.

Every time one of these cases makes the news I think immediately of you. How can I not? I wonder how is it you have gotten away with sexually abusing students for over 20 (yes, TWENTY!) years? There are so many questions…

Over fifteen years ago I found out you had a history of having sex with students. Not “a” student, although that would have been bad enough…but many, many students. Your family – your husband at the time, and your small children – were literally run out of the town where it all began with threats of violence due to your behavior. You seem to have no boundaries in telling the kids things, have you told them you were run out of town? Seems even backwoods, “country folk” as you once referred to one of the boys, don’t appreciate their young sons being preyed on by a school teacher. Maybe it was because some of them were smart enough to figure out that one of your pregnancies was due to your affairs with high school boys. People talk. Seems with you there was plenty to talk about.

Tell me, do YOU know which one of the students fathered the child that you fraudulently passed off as your husband’s for TEN years? My guess is yes, based on the information that the State Police discovered, but I’d like to see you have backbone enough to admit it. Does the boy that fathered this child know he has a daughter? Honestly, I am surprised you didn’t try to sue him for child support. I have no doubt you would have done so, if you thought you could have done it and kept your teaching certificate. Do the kids know who the father of their sibling is? Does your current husband know who the father is and how old the kid was at the time of conception? Bet you concocted a dandy story to cover it up.

You moved to this school district, but the behavior continued. You’ve been here for many years now. This is not a big area. And again, people talk. What I wonder every time one of these cases pops up is, WHEN will you be caught? Not when will you be found out, because everyone knows…the Superintendent, the School Board, fellow teachers and staff…students…parents…your children. When will you be held accountable for all the crimes you have committed against students? Multiple counts of sex acts, stalking, harassing, just to name a few. All felonies. All crimes against children entrusted to your care and authority. How do you manage to stay employed as a teacher? How have you managed to never be arrested? It amazes me. And let’s not forget the paternity fraud you committed and parental alienation you have fostered.

What kind of a stories have you spun over the years that allow your children to even be in the same room with you? They are adults now. They’re old enough to know what it meant having all those high school boys coming in and out of the house, going up to “Mom’s” room. They know what people were talking about in school. They know why the neighbors were talking. I am relieved that they are all out of school now. I used to worry about what would happen if you were arrested while they were in school. Clearly I worried in vain. This school district certainly doesn’t have the balls to fire you.

Eventually, I believe justice will be served. You cannot hide what you have done. There are too many victims. Too many people know. Sooner or later, it will catch up to you. Karma. Reaping what you sow. What goes around comes around and one of these days it will find you. In the meanwhile, you will live your life constantly looking over your shoulder, wondering when that day will come.

This hits the nail right on the head! Take time to read and learn. Glad to see this information becoming more main stream. It needs to make it’s way into the family court system, with attorneys and judges having training. Or, at the very least, listening to the mental health professionals that they appoint.
http://www.alienationischildabuse.org/personality-disorders.html

The jealous “new” wife.  That’s how my husband’s ex-wife liked to portray me in the beginning of my marriage to anyone who would listen.  I always found this interesting given the truth of the relationship between her and my husband.  There was no love lost on his part.  He made it very clear to me from our first meeting that his relationship with her centered around the children.  They had married due to pregnancy and he had stayed married to her for the sake of his children.  My husband is a man who honors his responsibilities.  One of the many things I admire about him.

When my husband and I started dating and the ex didn’t consider me a threat, she was happy to have my involvement with the children.  I would include my husband and his kids on outings I had planned for my own children.  We hiked, we picnicked, we picked apples.  They were often at my home for dinners. They would literally fight to spend time with me.  As the relationship between my husband and I grew, we spent more and more time together.  And the ex was more than happy to hand the kids over to him anytime he could take them.  He had them much of the time.

In all honesty, I have no idea when she began to see me as a threat.  That first Summer my husband and I were together, at some point a letter was sent to the public school administration talking about the ex’s sexual relationships with students.  She seemed to think either think that my husband had something to do with that letter, or she was upset that he wasn’t helping her defend herself against the allegations, but she went on the defensive.  Probably typical behavior for someone who has so much to hide.  Perhaps she was nervous because I had been in the picture longer than she expected.  Maybe she had come to dislike her children going home and telling her how much fun they had with us.  Maybe it was my husband confronting her about having the teenage boy she was involved with at the time constantly at her home.  At one point, hiding upstairs in her bedroom when he came to pick up the children so he wouldn’t know he was there.  Nonetheless, I became the bad guy.

By Fall, when my husband and I decided to marry, things had deteriorated to the point that when making our wedding plans, we had to keep them secret from the children just to be certain they would be able to attend.  We made sure to arrange for our ceremony to take place on mid-week visitation here at our home.  If we hadn’t, she would have never allowed them to attend.  The next weekend visitation after our marriage, when my husband returned the children to her home, she had left a long, handwritten letter for him.  In short, expressing her love and devotion to him.  Stating that she had loved him deeply for “the past nine years” and explaining how she had hoped that they would reunite.  My husband sat and read the letter in disbelief at her gall.  After her repeated infidelities during their marriage with various men, not to mention numerous high school boys, she saw herself as devoted?  After all she had put him through – the embarrassment at schools where he had coached, the suspicion that not all of his children were biologically his – did she truly believe he would EVER live under the same roof as her again?  Trust me, there was no jealousy to worry about here.

Less than a year after we wed, there was an incident between the ex and one of the high school boys with whom she was physically and emotionally involved.  He broke into her home and physically assaulted her.  Fearing for the safety of his children, my husband immediately filed for temporary custody, which he was granted.  He would ultimately be granted full custody.  Perhaps it is around this time that I started to hear that I was the “jealous” wife.  After all, she needed someone to pin it on, right?  She had been caught.  Again.  And I wasn’t afraid to speak up.  She needed me to be the villain in her story.

Looking back, it still dumbfounds me that she tried to sell ME as the jealous one.  For all I know maybe she still does.  In actuality, she and I couldn’t be more different from one another.  Without being catty, I will say that we are as different physically as we could be.  There are no similarities in our height, weight, body shape, hair color, etc.  None.  Zero.  Thank God.  (Okay, maybe that’s a bit catty, but it’s the truth!)  We are not similar in accomplishments or interests.  We clearly have a very different moral code.

For years, she has tried to emulate me.  I bought the kids guinea pigs as pets, she couldn’t find guinea pigs so she bought rabbits.  I cut my naturally curly hair to should length, she shows up with her hair cut shoulder length and permed.  I bought a jeep, she bought a jeep.  I taught the girls to crochet, she tried learning to crochet/knit.  I like to cook from scratch, she would call my husband and tell him I was making fun of her cooking.  For the record, I never made fun of her cooking.  I had no idea whether she could cook, nor did I give a damn.  Still don’t.  I do what I do because I enjoy it.  I could go on and on with examples from over the years.  She does what she does because she feels inferior and weak.  In her mind, she must compete with me.

In all of almost 15 years, this woman has never had the courage to pick up the phone to have a conversation with me on something she “thought” I said or did.  She has never had the balls to write me an email.  She has never once confronted me for trying to get her fired as a teacher.  She cannot speak to me for fear of being hit in the face with the truth.  When I see her in person, she cannot look me in the eye.  She has spent years using her children against me and doing her best to destroy my marriage.  Jealousy.  It’s her answer to everything.  But you tell me, who is really the jealous one?

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